The Aftermath Of The Moment
by wynnie the pooh
Summary: Angela and Hodgins are meant for each other. It's not hard to see. But how many moments are there that we miss out on seeing? This is a collection of moments based around episodes that need a little bit more romance.
1. The Parts In The Sum Of The Whole

Disclaimer: I wish I owned Bones, if only to make more romantic moments. But sadly, I don't, and this is my way of compensating.

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**Chapter One: The Parts In The Sum Of The Whole**

_The room is crowded as people rush everywhere and three figures follow behind another. Dr Temperance Brennan is in the lead, eyes covered in sunglasses and trench coat covering her other clothing. She is the leader of this small group, but this is not her story. This is the story of two of the people following behind her._

_'Hey!' one of them says. Her name is Angela Montenegro. 'Oh, hey. We have to tell you something.'_

'_Zack told me how bad you felt about boiling all the particulates out of the skull-' This speaker is Jack Hodgins. _

'_I need some coffee,' Brennan interrupts. _

'_This is coffee,' the last member of their small group speaks up, handing her a cup. This is Zack Addy, Brennan's grad student._

'_Oh, thank you.'_

'_Despite the boiling,' Hodgins continues. 'I was able to get microscopic samples from the bones.' He turns to Angela, a flirty glint in his eye. 'Hey, have I mentioned how excited I am to be working with you?'_

'_Yeah, yeah,' she says, with a smirk, clearly unimpressed by his mop of curly hair and bright blue eyes. 'You mentioned it.'_

'_Dr Hodgins found microscopic fragments of steel and traces of lubricating oil,' Zack speaks up._

'_Zack and I compared manufacturers specs for the Judges trunk to the victims gaping head wound,' Angela adds._

'_One of them matched.'_

_This time, it's Brennan's turn to speak. She turns around to face them. 'We got fired.'_

'_A '56 Bel Air,' Hodgins continues._

'_What?' asks Brennan._

'_What?' This time it's Angela._

'_What?' Finally, Jack interprets her words._

'_We got fired? Wha- is this because you slept with Booth?'_

'_What? I didn't sleep with Booth. Why- why did you say that?'_

'_Tequila vapors,' Hodgins comments._

'_What is happening?' Zack asks._

'_I got us fired because I punched a judge in the schnoz.'_

'_Now I'm never going to make it to Paris,' Angela mopes._

'_Angela, I can offer you steady employment reconstructing ancient remains and tombs and digs.'_

'_Really?'_

'_You know,' Hodgins says. 'I've always wanted to go to Paris with an artist.'_

'_Zack, take all of the evidence to Booth at the FBI and we all can go back to our normal jobs.' Brennan resettles her sunglasses on the bridge of her nose and heads into her office._

'_Do you feel like you saw something great that almost happened, then it didn't?' Jack asks. He receives no answer._

_

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_

Angela sat at home that night, thinking about her day. And what a day it had been. Compared to her normal life of drawing caricatures on the streets of D.C, this had been something interesting. Horrific, sure. But also, interesting. And even the flirtatious advances towards her by the short entomologist were worth mentioning. He may be short, and most definitely not the kind of guy that Angela was usually interested in, but he had a quality to him that she hadn't seen in many men in her time. He had almost longed for a chance to prove himself to her. It almost made her feel guilty that she had turned him down.

She stood up, walking across to her fridge and pulling from it a small bottle of spirits before heading back to the sofa. She popped the lid and took a sip, flipping on the television. It had been the first night in a long while in which she spent the night alone. She wasn't quite sure why, but she just didn't feel like calling up any of the numerous guys whose numbers she had in her phonebook for a night of something meaningless. She wasn't sure why, but for the first time in her life, she felt as if she wanted something more than just meaningless sex.

It was an odd feeling, but she knew it would pass. These odd moments she had always passed. But what Jack had said - _'Do you feel like you saw something great that almost happened, then it didn't?' _- something about that phrase hit her. As with a lot of things that night, she wasn't sure what it was, but she desperately hoped she would find out soon, if only to abate her curiosity.

* * *

Jack placed his keys down on the small table beside his front door. Flinging his shoulder bag into the living room, he continued on into the kitchen and pulled a bottle of scotch from his liquor cabinet. Her poured a small amount into a glass and drank it back.

His brain was swirling around, images popping up again and again on repeat. And all of them seemed to be of the beautiful artist Dr Brennan had hired. Her long legs, her smooth exotic skin, the dark curls of her hair. He liked her. To him, it was an automatic attraction, a sudden gasp when she first walked into the room, taking his attention and his legs out from under him.

But, as happened with most of the girls that he actually liked, she had turned him down. Maybe he needed to show her his money, and then she'd agree to spend time with him. He could take her to Paris and they could do some real sight-seeing if you get the drift.

No. He couldn't do that. That was the complete opposite of actually liking someone.

He took another sip of his scotch, sitting down at the breakfast bar. His head slumped in defeat, and he knew he looked to the world like a drunk in a bar. And he might have been just a little bit drunk.

But man, she was beautiful. If he never saw another woman in his life, he could live with just her. And he never thought he'd grow tired of her either. She had those wits of hers that kept him on his toes. She was quick on the uptake, maybe even a little too quick, and she had that distinct knack of getting the best of him. She made him want her, pine for her, but he knew he had to bury it down. If he was going to work with her, like Brennan had said, he'd need to be able to keep his libido in check and his mind out of the gutter. He knew it was unlikely to happen, but he hoped he wouldn't slip up and make a fool of himself. If only so her beautiful legs wouldn't trip him over next time he laid eyes on her.

A third sip of scotch burned his throat and he placed the glass on the sink, rinsing the last of the alcohol down the drain. Then he climbed the stairs to his one of many bathrooms and looked at himself in the mirror. The stubble on his face was longer than he usually allowed it get, but he couldn't be bothered shaving. Maybe he'd let it grow, try something different. Maybe she preferred her men with beards.

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This is my first story on . It's definitely not my first ever, but hopefully you enjoy. This is actually the chapter I'm happiest with at the moment and I've written a lot more than just this one (not necessarily in the posting order). I hope you kind of understanding where it's headed. Each chapter is based off an episode that I felt could have included more thoughts or more romantic moments. Some chapters will be longer than others depending on what's going on. For example, these first chapters will be short, mainly because it's Jack and Angie's thoughts rather than conversations between them. But later on, it will be getting longer. I've just finished a chapter a lot further down the track and it is really long. Anyway, I'd love hear what you have to say, so feel free to review and tell me how bad it is.

Thanks, Wynnie.


	2. The Boy In The Shroud

**Chapter Two: The Boy In The Shroud**

'_That which we call a rose by any other name would smell as sweet,' Jack says, entering the room. Brennan and Zack are talking about the case, and they raise their heads from the bone to look at him._

'_Romeo and Juliet. Act 2, scene 2,' Zack comments. 'The quote considered to most aptly describe the central conflict of the play... which I totally do not understand.'_

'_The flower in Dylan's hand was a rosea calyx,' Jack continues. 'A rosebud.'_

* * *

_Hodgins is sitting at his work station, examining a slide under his microscope. Despite this, his mind is reeling. His attempts to hold his thoughts about Angela inside seem to be failing. He needs to... he needs to... concentrate. That is what he needs to do. _

'_Is there anything I can do?' the voice asks from behind him and he turns to see her. She is standing there, all tall and beautiful and he suddenly feels shorter than he normally does. She hands him a diagram and he looks it over, thankful for a distraction, any distraction._

'_Hey, this schematic is great, Angela. All the pipes are numbered and located. Meanwhile, I have hundreds of rust samples and I've covered, hmm, maybe a quarter of the crime scene.'_

'_Ugh,' she comments sympathetically._

'_Yeah,' he agrees. 'On the good side, that is definitely the window Dylan Crane exited as he fell. Leaded glass is a match.'_

'_It's a strange place for two people in love to end up.'_

'_What? A forensics lab?' The words spill from his mouth before he has a chance to keep them in check._

'_No, a squat. In an abandoned pipe factory.'_

'_Right,' he says. 'Yes, right.'_

'_What were you talking about?' She raises an eyebrow._

'_Just Cam and Booth, you know, of course.' He hopes, prays, desperately that his cover will hold._

'_Oh, yeah.'_

'_Given their- their history.'_

'_Mm.'_

_An uncomfortable silence falls over them, and he has the distinct feeling that he's made a mistake, that maybe because of his big mouth, she is going to do the same thing she did when they first met, and brush him off like the bug and slime guy he is. _

'_Tension, party of two,' he says, trying for an awkward laugh, but she only walks away. 'Great. Great.' He lets a moan escape his lips and turns back to his work. 'Okay.'_

* * *

'_Meet the English Alba Rose,' he announces, walking into the room. This time, she is not to be seen, and he is glad. If she's not there, his heart can beat normally, and his mind can stay somewhat on track. 'Climbing varietal. Nonexistent in the United States. Some say, it was the rose by any other name Shakespeare wrote about.'_

'_And we give a rat's ass because...?' Special Agent Seeley Booth, FBI, asks._

'_It's what Dylan Crane was clutching in his cold, dead hand.'_

'_So what?' Camille Saroyan, the pathologist, asks. 'He was killed by Hamlet?'_

'_Wrong play. It's more likely he paid a visit to the rose wing of the United States Botanic Garden.'_

_

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_

_Later that day he finds himself in the botanical gardens, standing next to the roses. He is here on official business, with Booth, but he can't help but pick a rose. No one sees, no one notices._

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_

_Even later, he stands at the door to her office, watching her. Her hands are flying across the keys of her keyboard, and her eyes are glued to the computer screen. He walks up beside her, placing the rose carefully on the desk next to her elbow. He leaves, silently, without saying a word. As he leaves, she notices the rose, turns to ask him why, but he has already turned away. The words fall silently from her lips._

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The rose stayed in her hands that night. She held it gently, and when she arrived home, she placed it in a vase filled with water. She didn't want to see it die. The white petals were perfectly formed, and she could guess that he had picked the most well-formed rose from the garden for her. It seemed to her like the kind of thing he would do.

She walked across to her bedroom, carrying the vase with her, and placed it on her bedside table before slipping out of her clothes and into her pajamas, child-like and immature. They were her pajamas for days she didn't feel like impressing someone. They were warm flannelette, covered in cartoon love hearts, and as she snuggled down into the covers, she had the thought that he wouldn't care if she wore flannelette pajamas in front of him. She didn't need to impress him.

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What if he'd done something wrong? That was his main problem as he sat on the edge of his bed, his dark green shirt in his hands. He'd given her the rose, but he knew it wasn't enough. It wouldn't miraculously make her love him like he had come to love her. It wouldn't happen like that. He wasn't naive. But he didn't know what else he could do, where he could push. She was like an unattainable prize to him. He knew that in this world he could never stand a chance.

He tossed his shirt to the side and collapsed backwards onto the duvet of his king size bed. What was it about her that haunted him so much? He'd met other girls before who had her tall legs, or her dark curls, or even her chocolate eyes. Some of them even had them all. But none of them seemed to get to him like she did. _Angela. _Her name rolled from his tongue like it belonged there, like he was made to whisper it.

He wanted to hear her say his name. Not _Hodgins _like everyone else called him, like she called him now. But _Jack. _His given name. He wanted to hear it in her flirty tone, teasing him, the way she laughed with Dr Brennan about George Clooney and his nakedness on a beach. He wanted to be the butt of her sexual humour, he wanted to be someone that she talked about. He could even deal with just being someone she talked to, as more than just a friend, as more than just another workmate.

But no. He had a feeling that to her, he would always only be Hodgins, the dirt, bug and slime guy. No amount of impressing her with fancy plants and pictures, or perfect white roses would make a difference. She could impress him by just standing there, but he would never be enough for her.

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Okay, I'll be the first to admit that this chapter does jump around a bit. It doesn't really have a very strong plot, and it's a bit awkward, but I really needed to include the stuff about the rose for reference later on. Trust me. I hope you all like my interpretations of Jack and Angela. I find them really interesting characters to play around with, and personally I don't think there's enough about them out there. I love Jack and Angie stories but there aren't many. So that's why I decided to write this. Next chapter, we'll be looking at more of a connection between them. Hopefully you'll like it.

Thanks, Wynnie


	3. The Blonde In The Game

**Chapter Three: The Blonde In The Game**

_The group of scientists are standing together, discussing their current case. A case is a depressing subject, but the evidence is exciting to all of them, if only for the search of new knowledge, and using their knowledge in better ways. Cam, Zack and Brennan are discussing the bones and the flesh trauma, Hodgins is commenting on residue, and burial plans, trying to bring a smile to their faces._

_The smile falls from his face when he sees her, swiping her access card and pulling her back into a sweeping up-do as she approaches them. 'Hi, Angela,' he says, all discussion in his brain between his words and his thoughts ceasing. He takes a deep breath, pulls himself together and lets a small smile cross his features, trying his best to create a situation he doesn't know if he can form. 'You look great today.'_

_She smiles back at him, and inside his mind he sighs. She has accepted his compliment. To him, it is a step forward. 'Thanks, Hodgie,' she says. Her tone is flirty, and he is surprised. She is flirting with him. Flirting. He wonders for a moment if it is because of the rose that he left for her a week ago. 'This is my "boho, rocker, artist, mid-week, take-a-deep-breath-and-pout" look.'_

_She smiles at him and he grins back at her, unable to keep the happiness out of his gaze. _

'"_Hodgie"?' Brennan comments and Angela's smile quickly falls. She glances towards him, trying to share something, but he doesn't understand. _

'_Uh,' she says. 'I did a facial reconstruction, extrapolating skin tone from hair colour.'_

_And the conversation continues, and the small step forward he made with her is lost. He doesn't know if he will be able to find it again._

_

* * *

_

'_Yeah?' he asks into the speaker phone as Booth and Brennan talk on the other end, desperate to catch the serial killer that is haunting them._

'_Hodgins, it's me,' Brennan says. 'Is there anything you can tell us about where Sarah Koskoff was held before her body was dumped in the gypsum mine?'_

'_The only substance I can't explain is ethylene oxide.'_

'_Well, what about the ethylene oxide, plus... the antibacterial agents?_

'_It- it could be a lot of things.' He stands up, running a hand through his hair. 'I'll set up a statistical model, give you four of five scenarios.'_

'_There is _no _time,' Booth counters from the other end of the phone line. 'A girl's life is at stake here.'_

_Jack can't take it. There's too much stress, too much pressure. _I'm not used to this pressure! _he feels like yelling, but he swallows back the words, runs a hand through his hair again. _

'_Just give me your best guess, right now!' Booth says, his voice loud, yelling. Somewhere in the back of his brain, Jack registers that he must be stressed too, but his own anxiety wins over. _

'_I can't just guess!' He counters Booth's yelling with his own. His hands are clamped tight against the edge of his desk, knuckles white. 'I have a process!' He lowers his head, trying to think but all he can see is the girl, dying. 'What if I guess and the girl dies?' he asks. 'No. No way!' He stands up straighter, puts his hands on his hips. _

_Behind him, Angela approaches. Her gait is tentative. She hasn't seen him like this before, this is new, and she doesn't know what to do or what to say. If she says the wrong thing, he'll surely explode in her direction and no matter how much she wants to help, she doesn't want to be an outlet he uses for yelling at._

'_All right,' Booth says over the speakerphone. 'Simmer down, Hodgins. We're all- we're all just trying to do our best in this situation right now.'_

_He can hear Booth, but no matter how hard he tries, it won't sink in. All he can see is the girl, dead, in front of him, on the cold steel benches of the lab. He covers his mouth with one hand, trying to stifle the emotions that threaten to spill from his mouth. _

'_Jack.' _

_He turns to see her, standing there. She has said his name - his first name - like he has wanted her to for a long time. But somehow, it seems pointless now. _

'_Hodgins, are you still there?' _

_Jack spins back to the phone, running a hand through his curls again. _

'_Hey.' She reaches out towards his shoulder, turns him around. 'Pretend it's me asking, okay?' A small, sad smile crosses her face, but her features are calm. 'Look, we're just exchanging theories here at work like always. Two substances, right? Put them in the same place at the same time. Either they mean something or they don't.' _

_He takes a deep breath, calming down. Ethylene oxide. Antibacterial agents._

'_Hodgins, you there, buddy?'_

_And the stress rushes back. He presses a finger to his forehead, trying to push away the distractions, the picture of the girl, dead. 'Yeah, just... give me a second. Please.'_

'_We don't have a second!'_

'_Booth,' Angela's voice is calm, but her hands tighten into fists. 'Do you think you could just... stop talking, please?' She hears the sigh on the other end of the line but her mission is accomplished and instead she turns back to Jack. Her eyes are soft, gentle, waiting for him to reply. He can see no pressure in her eyes, and slowly, the stress starts to clear._

'_Okay, alright. Uh, antibacterial agent. And uh, he- he's a postal worker.'_

'_Okay,' she says._

'_Uh!'_

'_What else, Jack?'_

_He shakes his head, trying to clear his thoughts. He looks up at her, watching her face, eyes searching her while his mind searches for the answer. 'Anthrax.'_

'_Anthrax?' Brennan asks from the phone. _

'_After the Anthrax attacks in 2001, the post office shut down several... sorting centers.'_

'_Okay, alright.' Booth's voice is expectant, waiting for him to continue. But Jack can only stare at the phone. _

'_Tell me,' Angela says, and his gaze moves back to her. _

'_Uh, they used ethylene oxide and this antibacterial... agent, to- That's how they cleaned 'em. Not all of 'em reopened.'_

'_So it's possible Sarah was kept at an abandoned sorting center.'_

_Jack looks to Angela, a smile crossing his features. It is a thankful smile, an acknowledgement of what she has just done for him. 'Yes. Yes, it is.'_

_

* * *

_

She spun in her chair as the sliding door to her office opened. He was standing in the doorway, watching her.

'Hey,' she said.

'Hey.' He took a step forward, dropping his bag from his shoulder and placing it beside the door.

'You going home?' she asked.

'Yeah. I need to get some sleep after this case.'

She gave him a small smile. 'I think we all do.'

He nodded and took another step forward, bringing him close to her chair. She stood up so they were face to face. 'Thanks,' he said. 'For today, I mean.'

She smiled again. 'No problem.'

'No, seriously, Angela. Thanks. I don't think I could have figured it out without you there.'

'Sure you would have. It just would've taken longer.'

He looked down at his feet. 'Yeah, and we didn't have that sort of time.'

She bit her lip, watching him and he looked back up at her slowly. 'I'm sorry that you had to be put in that situation,' she said slowly.

'It's okay. Actually, I'm kind of glad I was.'

'Why?'

'Because if I hadn't, then there would have been no reason for you to help.' He gave her a small smile, but no time to answer before turning around, picking up his bag again and walking out the door.

She watched him go, wondering what he meant. But there was nothing she could say. So instead, she turned back to her computer and continued with her work, trying not to think about his smile, and the way it made her stomach jump with anticipation.

* * *

Here you go. New chapter. This one is kind of short, I think, but don't they say 'short and sweet'. Yes, I loved this moment in this episode, where Angie is trying to calm Jack down. I think it's adorable and I thought it was a good place to start their growing relationship in the flirting department. Hope you enjoyed it.

Thanks, Wynnie


	4. The Truth In The Lye

**Chapter Four: The Truth In The Lye**

'_The irony,' Angela points out to him. 'Is that I cannot think of a single woman who would want three husbands.'_

'_Good thing. A guy a would never be stupid enough to let it happen.' He gives her a grin._

'_Excuse me, these women were not stupid.' She turns to face him, finds him lying in the ceramic bathtub in which the remains of this case's victim was found. 'And that is completely gross.'_

'_But comfy,' he replies with a grin, placing his hands behind his head and leaning back. 'Welcome back by the way.'_

'_What?' she asks._

'_Well, after two days of inappropriate comments, you're back to judging me for gross behaviour.'_

'_When am I ever appropriate?'_

'_Good point,' he says, smiling as she leans on the edge of the bathtub. 'Maybe it was just the judging me I missed. Ah, the woman I know and love-' He pauses, wishing he could thrust all the words back down his throat and make them disappear. She raises her eyebrows questioningly. 'In a purely nonromantic, happy-to-be-judged way,' he finishes awkwardly._

'_Well, anyway.'_

'_These women.'_

'_Right. Not stupid. And frankly, that they allowed themselves to be duped is a sad statement on how lean the marker is out there.'_

'_I resent that,' he says. 'I'm out there.'_

'_You certainly are.'_

_

* * *

_

_An awkward moment if there ever was one_, he thought as he made his way home that night. His eyes drifted over the road, watching, but not really taking in. The part of his mind that was driving was doing its own job with no help from the rest. The rest of his brain was concentrated on her, and the idiot he'd made of himself.

He wanted to be cool around her, not a bumbling mess of who-knows-what. In a purely scientific way, he turned to goop when he saw her, much like the man they had found in the bathtub. He couldn't think straight, could hardly string two words together. And when he did, they were always the wrong ones, the ones that said the things he couldn't tell her.

He pulled into his garage, narrowly avoiding one of his porsches and one of the cleaners who was just leaving. He let out a curse before climbing out of the car and making a hurried apology. 'Sorry. Didn't mean to. Bit stressed, y'know.'

The cleaner nodded, but she was in a hurry too, and she didn't stop to start a conversation. They never stopped to start a conversation. Here, he was the millionaire, Jack Stanley Hodgins the Fourth. And everyone seemed to treat him like that, like he was above talking to normal people.

That's why he liked the lab. The people at the lab didn't care, didn't know. He was just Jack Hodgins, the bug and slime guy, and that was it.

Except, he wanted Angela to see him as more than that. He wanted her to see him as someone she could have fun with, spend time with just because she wanted to.

And he was hoping that maybe, sometime soon, she might open up to him, let him take their rather platonic relationship a step further. Ask her on a date, maybe. _Yeah, _he thought. _A date would be good. _

He walked up the steps to his house, opening the door that the cleaner had left open and stepping through. The house was empty, but the heating was on, and he walked across to the living room, collapsing on the couch. And he watched the roof, not seeing it. Instead he thought about Angela, and all that he wished they could be. He hoped that what he thought might possibly be flirting from her was the real deal, and that maybe, if he asked to take her somewhere, she would agree. He hoped.

* * *

As Angela pulled her minivan into the underground parking of her apartment building, her head was spinning. She hadn't had a man over to her apartment in a while. Instead, she spent her nights alone, sometimes with a glass of champagne, or with Brennan, always with a glass of champagne. She slept alone, spending long times staring at the ceiling and imagining what it would be like if she started a relationship with Jack Hodgins. It would be interesting, that was for sure, definitely something different from the normal guys dated. She had known he was different from the moment she had met him.

She stepped out of the elevator, opening the door to her apartment and stepping inside. She dropped her handbag on the kitchen counter and stepped across the room to the armchair that sat beside her window. Today, her easel was in front of it, a stark white canvas resting on the wood. She had attempted that morning to create a picture of the emotions that bubbled in her stomach, but all she could see when she imagined the canvas filled was the bright blue of his eyes and the golden brown curl of his hair. And thus, the canvas had remained empty.

Now, though, she had a sudden urge to mix a color. She pulled her oil paints from the cupboard beside the television, and dipped her brush. She didn't pencil in a sketch before starting. Instead, she let the brush touch the canvas and form its own picture, with only guidance from her hand.

When she was finished, she stood back and examined her work. From the canvas came the black and white outline of a man, shadowy, hidden. And then, in the center, where his eyes should have been, bright, vibrant ovals of blue.

She pulled the canvas from the easel, placing it in the shelving she kept for drying. She didn't look at it again.

* * *

Hi again. Here we all are, another chapter gone, and what the hell. This was going to end up being chapter five, because I was going to add a chapter, but that turned into somewhat of an epic fail, so here it is. In it's rightful place, as chapter four. Hope you enjoyed it :)

Wynnie


	5. The Girl In Suite 2103

**Chapter Five: The Girl In Suite 2103**

'_Hey, can you upload the pictures from this camera?' he asks, stepping into her office. _

'_Am I going to regret it?'_

'_What kind of guy do you think I am?' He gives her a grin, passing her the camera. _

'_It's just that men sometimes think things are funny that women merely find gross.'_

_He sits down next to her. 'They're pictures of the hotel room. I went there to collect some samples.' She brings up the photos and he points to one. 'Yeah, see... the heat blast deposited the first layer of residue on the walls - hydrocarbons.'_

'_The first layer?'_

'_Yep, layer two... I had to use an electron capture detector to identify. It was toluene and benzene - oxidized paint - which just exploded from the cans.'_

'_The explosion was a two-parter?'_

'_More accurately a fire, then an explosion,' he says. 'But get this... I found a patch of wall with only oxidized paint on it. Basically, a shadow.' He points to another photograph, outlining what he is seeing. 'See, something was between the wall and the fire, then was gone when the explosion occurred. Think you can figure out what it was?'_

'_I can try,' she says._

_He smiles. 'Cool. I also found these blobs of melted something-'_

'_Yeah, not my department,' she smiles. 'You're just trying to prolong this conversation.'_

_He grins, but stands up, walking backwards out of her office._

_

* * *

_

'_The fire started approximately here,' she says. It's later now, and she's analyzed his photos. 'Which means that whatever cast your reverse shadow was positioned here.'_

'_What cast the shadow?'_

'_Well, I manipulated the images you gave me in order to figure out the shape of the silhouette. The dark areas are where there was both blowback residue from the dire and the deposits of oxidized paint left by the explosion. By going in as far as individual pixels, I was able to find the are where there was only paint residue.'_

_She plays with the picture on the screen, and he draws in a small breath. 'That's a person.'_

'_Yeah. Given the angles and the distance from the wall, I'd say it's somebody about six feet tall.'_

'_And Lisa Winokur was only five foot four.'_

'_Which means whoever this was got out before the actual explosion occurred.' _

_He grins. 'Oh, I could kiss you.'_

_She smirks in reply, not turning away from her screen. 'That would require permission, which I deny.'

* * *

_

'_I brought you some coffee,' he says, handing her a mug. 'It's late.'_

_She smiles. 'You said you found burned silk fibers on Lisa Winokur's throat, right?'_

'_Yeah, the good stuff too. Unwound filament, probably Chinese. None of this carded, combed or spun stuff. And definitely not nubbly.'_

_She turns to him with a grin._

'_What?'_

'_You are a man of odd enthusiasms.' She turns back to the computer in front of her, taking a sip of the coffee. 'I'm checking for silk neckties on the men at the party. Look at this.'_

'_That's Antonio two hours before the explosion.'_

'_All the evidence points towards him. But Brennan says with his bad arm, there's no way he could've killed Lisa Winokur.'_

_Her gaze is trained on the computer, still scanning the video footage. He stands behind her, wondering if he should speak. Finally, he lets his subconscious take over, spilling out the words he wants to say. 'I- I know something. And when you know it, you should know that I know. But I don't feel we can discuss it until you, you know, know it independently from me.'_

Idiot, _he thinks, but he leans down to be closer to her. She turns around, catching him, and he gives her a guilty smile._

'_Are you sniffing my hair?'_

'_You called it, baby,' he says, trying to diffuse the awkwardness of the situation. 'Man of odd enthusiasms.' He shrugs his shoulders and walks out, his face spread in a grin.

* * *

_

She still couldn't understand why she had turned down his barely veiled advances. He'd flirted openly with her, and she knew she was flirting back. She'd painted what had to be considered a portrait of him, no matter how vague and abstract. He'd tried time and again to push something forward and every time she knocked him back.

Was it because she didn't want to connect? That could explain it. She wasn't one to share much of herself, except for the obvious sharing that comes when flesh collides with flesh. She didn't like to give up her emotions to someone else, someone who could control her easily, with a touch or a word. In short, she liked to wear the pants. And she knew, just _knew, _that Jack was the kind of guy she could find herself letting go with, and losing that control.

'Ange?' a voice asked, the tentative question of her best friend.

'Come in, Bren.'

'Why are you still here? You're usually the first to leave once business hours are over.'

'I know, but I just needed some time to think, and I wasn't sure if I could steer my car straight if I drove home.'

'Would you like me to drive you?'

She shook her head. 'Thanks for the offer, but I'll be fine. I'll just sit for a little bit more and then I'll head off.'

Brennan nodded, turned back to the door. 'Are you sure you're okay?'

'I'm fine, Bren,' she said, and her best friend left, leaving her alone in the lab.

She stood up, shutting off her computer and pulling her purse from her drawer. She slid it over and shoulder and left, not looking back.

If she had, she would have seen the picture that momentarily filled the screen of her computer, with a flashing memo. _Shutting down. New uploaded photo will be saved as Untitled._ A picture of her, facing her computer, hair swept back and a small smile crossing her features.

* * *

Hi again! Thank you to everyone who is reading, reviewing, or who has favourite-d this story! It means so much to me that you're enjoying my writing :). Also, this is now officially chapter five. For anyone I mentioned the possibly add in to, it is no longer going ahead. Apparently my muses didn't like all the contradictions (think jack and his french-canadian masseuse fitting in to the hodgela relationship... definitely wasn't rolling with my muses)! So now, this will stay as the fifth chapter, and the rest is all staying the same. Hopefully the next chapter will be up REALLY soon! It has been written, but I think I'll let you all stew a little lol.

Thanks for reading!

Wynnie


	6. The Girl With The Curl

**Chapter Six: The Girl With The Curl**

_'Listen... Angela,' he says softly, sitting down next to her. 'We've been... dancing around this for months now...' A smile tugs at the corners of his lips as he continues. "Like two pieces of neodymium caught in a magnetic field.'_

_She laughs. 'Is that good?'_

_'Yeah. But if the field weakens, they fly apart.' He pauses, waiting for her answer. She stays silent. 'Which is why I thought they should go on a date.'_

_He looks at her, eyes bright and searching her face. But she is shocked by his round-about offer. She hadn't seen it coming, and now she doesn't know what to say. She tries to muster up a small smile. 'Hodgins...'_

_He leans closer towards her, knowing in his heart that this is what he wants, and he's sure that she wants it too. 'You can't say that you don't feel it.'_

_Her heart is breaking as she watches him watch her, but she can't say yes, she can't agree to let him take her somewhere when she knows it will end in disaster. _

_'Come on,' he tries to argue. 'We owe it to ourselves to give it a try.'_

_'I- I just don't think it-' She stands up, trying to push his face from her mind. He follows her movement. '-would be a good idea,' she finishes. She's trying to be honest, but she can see the pain behind his eyes, and it hurts her so much that he is hurt. But even so... 'I mean, we work together, Jack.'_

_'Angela...'_

_'I'm sorry.'_

_He tries to smile, to alleviate the tension, but she can see the disappointment radiating from him. 'You're making a mistake,' he says._

_She feels so awkward, standing there next to him, and she sits down quickly, heading back to her work. 'I'll examine the paper after I go through the videos,' she says._

_He nods. 'Sure.' And then he leaves.

* * *

_

_Later, she is sitting in her best friend's office, looking for some advice. 'Hodgins asked me out.'_

_'Is that why you're hiding in here?' Brennan asks. _

_'I'm not hiding. I need advice.'_

_'What?' her friend asks. 'On a personal matter?' She seems confused, surprised. In her experience, Angela was the one from which help was usually given, not the other way around. _

_'Yes,' Angela says, almost smiling._

_'From me?'_

_'Yes,' she nods._

_'But romance is sort of...' Brennan trails off, trying to search for the words to describe her situation. 'This is like me asking you for advice on phylogenetic systematics.'_

_'Phylogenetic systematics...' Angela asks. 'I have no idea what that is.'_

_'Exactly.'_

'_Well, I can't ask Cam.'_

_A new woman enters the room, the two friends' boss. 'Can't ask Cam what?'_

_'Oh, Hodgins asked Angela out on a date.' _

_'Brennan!' Angela exclaims. _

_'What? Was it a secret?' She turns to Cam. 'It was a secret.'_

_Angela's face is contorted with annoyance, but Cam maintains an air of nonchalance, like she always seems to do. 'I just came to ask if you'd made any progress on the cellulose.'_

_Angela groans in remembrance. 'No.'_

_'Okay.' The boss takes a step out of the room._

_'Wait!'_

_She stops short, waiting for Angela to continue._

_'You can't pretend you didn't hear about this.'_

_'Fine.' Cam re-enters the room and sits down. 'What did you tell him?'_

_'"No."'_

_Cam raises an eyebrow in surprise. 'Why?'_

_Brennan glances at Cam. 'Because it would be a disaster.'_

_Angela's mouth drops open slightly, and she turns to Brennan. 'All of a sudden, you have an opinion on this?'_

_'You should never indulge in a romantic relationship with someone you work with.'_

_'Why not?' Cam asks, almost laughing._

_'Well, anthropologically?'_

_Angela winces. 'There's an anthropological answer?'_

_'An efficient workplace is predicated upon a simple hierarchy. Romance undermines that hierarchy.' She stops to think for a moment. 'This is like when I had an affair with my thesis supervisor in college.'_

_'Don't think we have time for that,' Cam interrupts. She turns to Angela. 'I say go.'_

_'What about this hierarchical-sexual...?'_

_Cam waves a hand at her nonchalantly. 'Won't be an issue. It's always fun to flirt in the workplace. But out there, when fantasy becomes a reality, it's a drag.'_

_Brennan shakes her head quizzically. 'What? The date will be bad?'_

_'It will be awful,' Cam states. 'You'll both realize it's not meant to be. There'll be a couple of days of awkwardness, and then everything goes back to normal.'_

_Brennan turns to Angela, nodding. 'If I were you, I'd go with Cam on this one.'_

_This comes as a surprise to Cam. 'Why?'_

_Angela smiles. 'Phylogenetic systematics.'

* * *

_

_He is deep in work when she comes by his desk. 'Hey,' he says. His eyes are averted from hers, and he is trying his hardest to keep them that way, and to keep his tone light. 'Don't come around again looking for a second chance. That was a one time offer, baby.'_

_'Really?' she asks, leaning over his shoulder, teasing him. 'Hmm.'_

_He spins around to face her. 'No,' he says quickly. 'What?'_

_Angela smiles, walking slowly away. He stands up and follows her, confused and trying his hardest to splutter out a reply. 'No. N-no, no. Not- not really. I mean, it never occurred to me that y-you would-' She turns to face him and he pauses. A blush rises up his cheeks. 'Okay,' he says. 'Now you talk.'_

_She looks at him, watching him. 'I accept...' she pauses, accentuating her words. '... going on a date... with you. Soon.'_

_He looks down, composing his thoughts before turning back to her, his face split in a wide grin. 'Tonight?'_

_She laughs. 'Wow, that is soon.'_

_'I don't want to give you time to change your mind.' She smiles, and he continues. 'What do you wanna do?'_

_'You asked me,' she smirks. 'Figure it out.'_

_She turns and walks away, knowing that his eyes are following her. He lets out a breath. 'Thank you,' he breaths to the ceiling above him, and smiles.

* * *

_

_They walk across a park, next to each other, but just far enough apart that they don't accidentally touch. 'Here's the thing, Angela,' he says, looking at her. 'I know you've been out with a lot of guys.'_

_She grins. 'Hey, you have a different girlfriend twice a month.'_

_He returns her smile. 'Yeah. So imagine the pressure to come up with a date that neither one of us has ever been on before.'_

_She looks around them. All she can see is the park. 'So what's up? We here to walk a dog or something?'_

_He stops walking, turning around so he is facing her. 'I remember what you said...'_

_She is confused at his statement, but he is remembering a time, earlier, when she had mentioned swings, and good times, and being a child. Things that she loved. And every word that came out of her mouth, he loved, and he remembered._

_'About how you used to feel on a swing,' he finishes. He nods behind him, and her eyes follow in the direction. In the middle of the park is a swing set, the moonlight of the night shining of the cool metal of the frame. _

_Her eyes light up and he smiles._

_'Oh, my God!' she laughs, looking down at the ground beneath her as the chain above her head tangles tighter and tighter._

_'Put your head back. Put your head back,' he says, preparing to let her go. She looks up at the chain, and he guides her slowly, letting the chains untangle, but guiding their journey, resting his hands on her shoulders. The chain loosens out and he pushes her gently, backward and forward. _

_'Ohhh! I'm gonna puke, I'm gonna puke!' Angela laughs._

_'No don't.' He stops the swing. 'You alright?'_

_She giggles. 'Yes.'_

_'Yeah?' He lays his hands on her waist, and starts to pull her back again._

_'Not- don't do it again.' She is grinning, laughing, enjoying herself, and her happiness is making him happy._

_'It was fun,' he says. But he doesn't turn the swing again. He only pushes her lightly, and jumps over on to his own swing._

_'I never thought I'd be doing this again,' she says._

_He grasps the chain of her swing, his hand next to hers. 'Really?'_

_She copies his action, gripping on to his chain, and they swing together, in time. 'Really,' she smiles._

_'You know, I had a little dream about it last night.' He grins, teasing, and she rolls her eyes._

_'Did you?'_

_'Yeah. It ended well, too.'_

_'I'm sure it did.' She gives him a grin and lets go of his chain._

_He jumps up to stand on the seat, still moving backwards and forwards. The grin leaves his face. 'But you know what? You look much better here.'_

_'Better than a dream, huh?' She shakes her head, grinning. 'You're shameless.'_

_He swings, pushing himself higher and higher._

_'All right,' she says. 'You better get- get- you are going to kill yourself.'_

_He gives her a grin and jumps off the swing in a flourish. 'I wouldn't do that.'_

_'No?' she asks, still swinging._

_'Not yet.' He steps in front of her, grabbing her chains and slowing the swing. She tucks a strand of her behind her ear nervously. He pushes the swing so he is closer to her, ever closer. He smiles as she stands there, her face inches from his._

_'What now?' she breathes._

_He doesn't speak. He only watches her, and slowly, leans down to kiss her. Her eyes close, and so do his, and in the darkness, their kiss deepens, and she smiles against his mouth.

* * *

_

'Hodgins,' she said, when they finally broke apart. Her voice was breathy, light, and her breathing had quickened. He took it as a good sign, and tentatively laid his hands on her hips.

'Yeah?'

'Why did you want me to go out with you?'

He shook his head gently, a smile crossing his lips. 'Hey, isn't it obvious, Angela?'

'I guess so.' She peeked up at him from beneath her eyelids. She wasn't used to being like this, being nervous around men.

He laid a finger beneath her chin and lifted her head so that their eyes were level. 'I don't want to take this where you don't want to take it.'

Her eyes were pained when she looked back up at him, and a pang of guilt burned through his stomach. 'I didn't mean it like that,' he said quickly. 'I mean, well I did, but I wasn't thinking it was right or anything. I just- I mean- When I said that I'd dreamed about this and it ended well that ending definitely wasn't here.'

'I know.'

'But I didn't expect it to happen on a first date. I mean, a first date isn't the kind of date where you go that far. I mean, I date lots. I know that.'

'I know.'

'Then, why are you upset?'

She blinked a few times, pushing the pain from her eyes and looked back up at him, forcing a smile. 'I'm not.'

'You are.'

'No, Jack. I'm not.'

'You are!'

She could tell he was getting frustrated, and she only wanted to see him happy. So she laid her palm flat against his stubbled cheek and pressed her lips to his gently. She could taste him, the softness of his lips against hers making her shiver.

'Are you sure you're not upset?' he whispered as she pulled away. 'Really sure?'

She nodded, and he smiled, and her pain is gone, replaced only by a sureness in her heart as she tells herself that she is going to enjoy these last few moments with him, before she insists he take her home, and she falls asleep, alone, in her own bed.

* * *

'_Hi,' he says softly as she enters her office. He has been waiting on her couch, waiting for her return._

'_Hi,' she replies flatly, avoiding his eyes._

'_We didn't really get a chance to talk today.'_

'_Yeah.' She pauses. 'I was avoiding you.'_

_Jack shuffles his feet, awkward. 'That whole... swing thing- wasn't- good enough, right? 'Cause I can do better.'_

_She turns to face him, surprised at his thought that a date like that could possibly be anything but good enough. 'It was perfect.'_

'_It was?'_

'_Maybe the best date I've ever had.'_

_He lets a smile escape his lips. 'Really.' She nods. His smile increases as he watches his toes. 'Great. That's great.' He lets out a breath, and she can hear the relief in his tone. 'Thanks.'_

'_Yeah.' She examines her own shoes, sad, and he notices. _

_His smile fades, but he is confused, and he doesn't understand. 'That's not great.' He takes a step towards her. 'How can a great date be not great?'_

_She looks straight at him, her gaze boring into his. 'Because it was supposed to fall flat. That way, we'd both know that this wasn't meant to be...' She pauses, watching him. The space between them seems like miles and miles. '... and we'd go back to the way we were before.'_

'_I don't like the way it was before.'_

'_Look,' she says. 'Brennan is my best fried, and-' She lets out a breath she had been holding. 'Zack is-' A shaky laugh escapes her lips and she shakes her head. '-whatever the hell he is, and... when this goes wrong, it- it pulls everyone else into it.' She takes a deep breath, struggling to decide what to say. 'And... what the great date tells us is... that when it goes wrong-'_

'_It'll go really, really wrong.'_

_She nods, her face twisted with sadness, but he still finds her beautiful. 'Yeah,' she whispers._

_He looks up at her, the corners of his mouth almost curling in a sad, pained smile._

'_So,' she says, shaking her head and averting her eyes from his. 'We go back, right?'_

_He blinks, stays silent. _

'_Friends?' she breaths._

_He nods slowly. 'Sure... friends.'_

_She returns his nod, relieved. _

'_Just one question.' Her gaze flicks upward to his, and he takes a cautious step towards her. 'What if it doesn't end that way?' He gives her a small smile, his eyes hopeful. 'What if it doesn't go wrong?'_

_She looks at him, but she can't say it. She can't agree, not to this. She swallows, breaths in slowly, gathering her strength before looking him in the eyes again. Her voice is filled with regret as she whispers. 'Friends.'_

_And in moments, the pain in his eyes is gone, replaced with a cool, cold understanding. He has left, and she is standing alone, hoping that her heart won't break any further than it already has.

* * *

_

He sat alone at his workbench, considering going home and not coming back. He didn't want to see her, have to share a conversation when she'd broken his heart and said that fateful word. _Friends. _He was really starting to hate that word, and he wanted to hate her too, but he knew he never could. Hating her was like hating the sky, or... or... some other thing that had no way of fighting back for itself and was too beautiful to hate anyway.

He hated the world - God, he hated the world - but he didn't hate her. If she asked for forgiveness, he would happily accept. If she ever asked for a night of lust and rushed sex, he'd happily give it to her, if only for the chance to give her a piece of him. And he'd already given her a piece of him, a piece that he never expected to get back.

His pride was battered and wounded, and as he sat there, at his desk, he wondered if he would ever get over her. He didn't feel like he would ever get over her. He felt, instead, like he should wallow here, at his desk, for all eternity, and maybe even a few years more, imagining the way she walked across the room, flirty smile crossing her face and that twinkle in her eyes as she looked at him.

But then he'd come back to the bring problem. Would she ever look at him like that again?

Then another thought: Could he persuade her to?

He thought about the things women liked. Good food, thoughtful banter, a token of jewelry. He considered, briefly, about buying her a necklace. He could afford it, but he knew her taste in fashion was eclectic to say the least, and the knick-knacks she wore often seemed to have some kind of meaning, a memory to go along with it.

Maybe perfume. Yes, that's what he'd buy her. Perfume. Expensive perfume, the kind that no one in their right mind would buy. But he wasn't in his right mind. Not tonight.

* * *

Hi to all the readers out there! This is a new chapter, and also a really really long one! The next few will be quite long, mainly because we're getting into the first bits of the relationship. Then we'll head into a bit of fluffiness, and then back into a bit more angst. I hope you'll enjoy the ride :)

Thanks, Wynnie


	7. Aliens In A Spaceship

**Chapter Seven: Aliens In A Spaceship**

_He scribbles on the scrap piece of paper, desperately writing words he needs her to hear. He doesn't care anymore. He doesn't want to hold up a facade that he can deal with the two of them being _just friends.

_He finishes the note, and tucks it into his pocket. 'Okay, I'm ready.' His leg is bleeding, and it's painful, but he needs Brennan's help to alleviate the pain. _

'_Is it a note to Angela?' she asks him._

'_Yes.' His voice is pained, and she thinks it is only because of the pain in his leg, but tears are pricking at his eyes, and his mind is flying through too many thoughts, too many ideas that he'll never see her again. There was too much that he'd miss, too many things he wouldn't get to say, or do. 'Just in case that whatever you're gonna do sends me into shock and I die. Upside? Me not breathing doubles your survival time.'_

'_I'm not interested in surviving that way,' she says. 'What I'm going to do is make a long incision in the fascia to release the pressure inside.'_

'_And how long is a long incision? Wait. You know what, don't tell me.'_

'_It's best if I do it very fast and without empathy.'_

_He nods, tears welling in his eyes._

'_Here,' she says, handing him a rolled up towel. 'Hang on to something and don't fight passing out. Are you ready?' _

_He grabs the support handles on either side of the car, gripping tight. He nods._

'_Wait.' She bends down, pulling something from his leg. _

'_What is that?'_

'_Evidence of what happened to you. Let's worry about it later.'_

'_Here.' He hands her a copy of her novel. 'Put it in the pages of your book. I'll take a look at it later.'_

_She nods, placing the small scrap of evidence in the pages and turning back to him. He alters his grip on the handles and places the towel back in his mouth._

'_It's best if you don't talk right now.'_

_He nods, but he drops the towel from his mouth, words following after it without any control of his own. 'I'm nuts about Angela,' he says. The tears are running down his face now, staining his cheeks, leaving tracks between the dirt that covered his skin. 'Over the moon. Stupid in love with her. That's why I bought her that crazy expensive perfume. If a man gives you a bottle of perfume like that, it says... it says I love you.' He breathed a sigh of relief. 'There. I said it out loud.'_

_He replaces the towel, breathing deeply. She makes the incision in his leg and he screams, all the while thinking of her, the girl that he loved, and he'd finally said it out loud._

_

* * *

_

_Underground, an explosion occurs. Dirt travels upwards, but it also travels downwards, spilling into the car. The two people trapped inside cannot breathe, but they could not breathe beforehand, and so not much has changed. _

_Above ground, people are rushing to their location, digging in the dirt, searching for them. Angela is among them, her face desperate. She needs to see him, to know he's okay. To be able to say that she's there for him, that she doesn't care anymore about what she said. She needs him, much more than he could know._

_And suddenly, Brennan is free of the dirt. 'Get Hodgins,' she breathes, and they continue digging. They pull him from the soil, but his face is still. He's not breathing._

'_Jack,' Angela sobs. 'Come on!' Her hands are running along his face, brushing the dirt from his beard. He coughs, and is breathing again, and she lets out a sigh of relief before pressing her lips to his and kissing him for all she is worth. She hadn't kissed him since the night of their date, but she couldn't hold back any longer, couldn't keep her feelings in check. He kisses her back, and all his pain is forgotten, if only for a moment, as he collapses into her kisses._

* * *

'_I went to visit you at the hospital,' she says, coming to stand beside him at his desk. 'I brought you this.' She holds up a teddy bear, but he only gives a shaky smile and turns away._

'_They- they let me go home.'_

'_No, they didn't,' she says scoldingly. 'You left without being discharged. You stole crutches which _I _had to pay for.'_

'_They packed me up, pumped me full with antibiotics, stitched me up and gave me painkillers, so I'm good to go.' His voice is wavering, and his eyes stay on his computer. _

'_Could you please look at me?' she asks, and he turns towards her. 'You were buried alive. You were operated on without an anesthetic. You were pumped full of drugs. You really should be lying down.'_

_He takes a deep breath, running a hand through his hair. 'He's out there, Angela. And he buries people alive. I have to catch him. If I can figure out the exact alloy of aluminum then maybe I could... maybe we could... Plus the bumper sticker Brennan found in my leg...' He trails off. He can't talk. He's too jittery. All he can think of is being there, underground. When he had been released, he could only think of her, but now the dirt was filling his mind, taking over every part of his conscious. He needed to catch this bastard, if only so he could sleep at night._

'_We're gonna catch him, okay?' Angela says. 'I promise you. We're going to start tomorrow, all of us together.' She lays a hand on his shoulder, trying to calm him, but he looks up at her with fear in his eyes._

'_I can't sleep, Angela.'_

'_I thought they gave you something for that?'_

'_No, I mean, I'm afraid. I'm afraid that if I close my eyes, when I open them I'm gonna be back in that car, buried, running out of air.'_

_Without hesitation, she says, 'Okay. Then you should come with me.'_

'_What?'_

'_When you open your eyes, I'll be there.'_

'_Yeah?' he breathes. _

'_Yeah.' She gives him a small smile and he nods._

'_Okay.' She pulls him to a standing position, taking his hand. 'You know I'm good for that crutch money, right?'_

_She laughs, but she doesn't say anything._

* * *

They drove to her apartment slowly, her gaze wandering away from the road to his face every few minutes. He was leaning against the window, eyes closed. A small smile played across his lips, and she raised her eyebrows in question.

'What are you thinking about, Hodgins?' she asked.

He opened his eyes slowly, watching her. 'You.'

'Really?'

'Yeah.'

'What part of me?' She gave him a grin, teasing him, and he laughed.

'All of you.'

'And what are you thinking about to do with me?'

He paused, thinking of how to phrase his words, letting a smile tug at the corners of his mouth, a subconscious smile. 'I'm thinking about how, after all I've been through today, I can still manage to think about you, and about that dream I had the other week.'

'That dream in which...?' she trailed off but he understood, and nodded.

'Yeah. I've been having that dream a lot lately.'

She smiled, and turned back towards the road. They were nearing her apartment block, and she pulled into the parking space. 'You ready?' she asked him. He nodded and they stepped out of the car and headed up to the building.

She opened the door to her apartment, holding his hand and leading him inside.

'Do you want me to take the couch?' she asked.

'No.'

'Are you sure you don't want the bed? I'm happy to sleep on the-'

'Angie.' He squeezed her hand. 'I don't want you to sleep on the couch. I want you to sleep with me, next to me.'

She smiled, turning to face him. 'And what do you want me to wear?'

'Well, that's up to you.'

'Really?'

'Yeah, well, if I get the chance it'll be coming off anyway.'

She laughed, and he took the opportunity to kiss her. His lips crashed down upon hers, and he didn't hesitate in letting his tongue slide into her mouth, exploring. His hands held her neck, cupped her face, holding her to him.

She wrapped her arms around his waist, pulling him close to her. She reveled in the contact between them, and a thought crossed her mind, one that insisted she find the hem of his shirt and pull it up over his head, if only so she could press herself against his skin, and feel the goosebumps that rose at her touch.

'Hodgins,' she breathed as he moved his lips away from her mouth and across to her neck.

'Mmm?'

'Will you take your shirt off already?' She could feel him grin against her neck before moving away and unzipping his jacket. She reached up to slide the material off his shoulders, and it fell to the floor. Next came his t-shirt, and he pulled it off his form in one swift movement. She ran her hands along the sculpted muscles of his chest, smiling to herself.

'What's so funny, Ange?' he asked. He slipped his arms around her waist, pulling her towards him.

'Nothing. I'm just... I've seen you topless before, but it was never like this, and I hadn't quite thought of it like this.'

'Like what?'

'So... so... scarily intoxicating.'

He grinned, kissing her cheek and along down her jaw. 'Is that a good thing?'

'It's a very, _very _good thing.'

He kissed her again, this time on the lips, trapping her mouth beneath his. His hands moved up to bury themselves in her hair as she continued to run her fingers along his skin.

'Hey,' he said, when they parted again. 'Why were you so desperate for my top to be off, but I get none of that?'

'Hey,' she mimicked. 'Why are you talking? Just show me the goods, Jack.'

* * *

She woke up to the sounds of his quiet sobs. She rolled over to face him, but his eyes were closed, his eyeballs jumping in their sockets. She laid a hand on his cheek, kissing his forehead gently.

'Jack. Jack, wake up.'

'Don't! Don't touch me! Help! Let me out! Get me out of here!' His head thrashed from side to side, caught in the nightmare, and Angela held his face in her hands, keeping him still.

'Jack,' she whispered. 'I'm here, Jack. Wake up.' She kissed his lips gently, and she could taste the sweat on his skin.

Slowly, he calmed down, and his eyes opened. 'Angie,' he murmured. 'It was so real.'

'I know.' Tears pricked at her eyes at the sight of his own, running down his face. She pushed them away with her thumb before settling down beside him, pressing her body against his, and wrapping her arm around him. 'But I'm here. You'll be okay.'

'I don't know if I'll ever be really okay again, Ange.'

She gave him a small, sad smile, but only rested her head on his chest, snuggling into him. He let her fall asleep again, but he couldn't close his eyes. Every time he did, he found himself inside the car again, dirt pressing in on all sides.

Instead, he laid there, watching her. He watched her body rise slowly up and down, in time with her breathing, and he gently ran his fingers through her hair.

'I love you, Angela,' he whispered, even though he knew she wouldn't hear him. She was too fast asleep.

* * *

Hi everyone! Again. Okay, so this is pretty much the last chapter I have already written (until quite a few chapters along anyways). Hope you enjoy it, and savour it, because the next one won't be up for a while. :)

Wynnie


	8. The Headless Witch In The Woods

**Chapter Eight: The Headless Witch In The Woods**

_The music is loud - deafeningly loud - when he enters her office. He walks across to her, lays a hand on her shoulder. The scream that comes from her mouth at his touch is enough to send him jumping backwards._

'_I know where Graham Hastings was murdered!' he yells over the strong bass and loud melody of the music._

_She turns the music down quickly and turns to him. 'Are you trying to kill me?'_

'_What's with the music?'_

'_It helps muffle the screams so I don't pass out every few seconds.'_

'_Smart,' he comments, moving to sit down next to her. 'We have to go through all the video again. Hastings was killed in a patch of eastern hemlocks like this.' He pulls up a picture, points out the tree. 'They grow in clusters throughout the forest. We have to spot the cluster Graham and the others were near.'_

'_Wait,' she asks. 'We have to go through all the video again?'_

'_Don't worry,' he says with a small smile. 'I'm right here for you.'_

_The video plays, the shocking footage that seems to come straight out of a horror movie, filled with screams, and blood, and haunted faces. Angela's hands curl around Jack's arm, pulling him towards her for protection, and his arm slips around her shoulder, holding her tight. Her eyes close, attempting to push away the horrific images, and she leans against his shoulder, burying her face in his neck._

'_You're supposed to be looking for eastern hemlock,' he says. 'It's much more effective with your eyes open.'_

'_I just know what's going to happen here, okay? This is where they freak out because they hear the witch.'_

_The video continues, punctuated every so often by a harsh clash of white noise and pixellated snow. _

'_Wait.' Angela pauses the video, points towards the screen. 'There. Did you see that?'_

'_Yeah. But where are they? Go, go forward.' The footage skips a few frames. 'Stop. Dense crown, fine branches, scaly bark and wide ridges. Those are eastern hemlocks.' He lays a quick kiss on her forehead. 'Love your eyes. Now we need a landmark.'_

_She presses play on the video again, and the images flash by. 'Wait,' Jack says. "Wait a minute, wait a minute. 2:37 am.' He is pointing towards the girl in the videos watch, clearly in view to the camera._

'_So?'_

'_We have a date plus an exact time. I- I can estimate the position of the moon from shadowing patterns on the forest floor. We should be able to get the approximate latitude and longitude.'_

_The footage continues to play, the screams of the characters piercing Jack and Angela's ears. 'Let's just work out the coordinates,' he murmurs into her ear as another scream rings out. _

'_Yeah,' she replies quickly._

* * *

_Angela's office is warm and welcoming to him as he sits on her couch. The case is over, another long day complete. He had considered going home, but he had wanted to see her before he left, catch a last glimpse of her, and maybe even invite her over._

_She walks in, sitting down at her computer. 'The FBI needs me to finish cataloging the restored footage.'_

'_It's cool,' he replies. 'I don't have anywhere else to go.'_

'_You've been great today, Hodgins.'_

_He stands up, crosses the room so he can stand beside her. 'No,' he protests modestly. His eyes flick to the computer screen, showing footage of the forest that he has yet to see. 'I haven't seen that piece.'_

'_Yeah, I was working on it before. It just finished rendering.' She presses play on the tape and he kneels down beside her to be at her level. On the monitor, a white shadow appears, a woman. This case has been about horror stories, myths of witches in woods, and beside him, Jack can hear Angela's breathing jump._

'_Um- uh- could- could be a reflection,' she stammers._

'_Had to be. Or some moonlight.'_

'_Yeah. Uh, moonlight sounds right.' She turns her head to face him. 'Can I stay at your place tonight?'_

'_Sure,' he breathes, thankful that he doesn't have to ask. 'No problem.'_

* * *

'Do you believe in ghosts?' she whispered in the dark as they lay next to each other, spent. He had tried to push away her fears, give her something else to think about, and she had embraced him wholeheartedly. But now, her voice was trembling, her warm breath on his cheek erratic.

'No,' he replied. 'I believe in science, and bugs and dirt.'

'Yeah,' she agreed, rolling into him and running a hand gently along his chest, trying to push the image of the ghost on the screen out of her mind. 'But there's some things you can't explain.'

'Like what?'

'Like- like you and me, working out. We shouldn't be able to have a relationship without it being incredibly weird and incredibly short lived.'

'I really hope it isn't.'

'Me, too.'

He covered her hand with his, bringing it up to his lips. 'The point of you being here, Ange, is so that you don't have to have nightmares. We've done the fun bit, you should probably get to sleep.'

She nodded lazily, snuggling into his shoulder, and he wrapped his arm around her, revelling in the warmth that radiated from her body. He listened to her breathing, felt the up and down of her chest against him, and waited till the movements levelled out. Then he kissed the top of her head, breathing in the scent of her shampoo, and willed himself to sleep.

* * *

When Angela woke up, Jack's hand was resting on her face, cupping her cheek. His lips were barely inches away from hers, and she couldn't help but lean up to kiss him. He came alive beneath her touch, eyes flying open. His hand tightened against her cheek, drawing her closer to him, deepening the kiss. His tongue ran along her bottom lip, seeking entrance to her mouth and she accepted him. She could taste him, feel his tongue exploring her mouth and she moved her own tongue in a dance with his.

'Ange,' he said, pulling away and taking a deep breath. His eyes roved her face and her body, which had become partly uncovered from the sheets. She flushed slightly beneath his gaze.

'Morning, Jack,' she replied. She gave him a small grin before climbing out of the bed and pulling her jeans on.

'Hey!' he protested with a laugh. 'No!'

'We have to go to work, Hodgins. It's really late.'

He flicks a glance at the glowing clock beside the bed. 'It's only nine.'

'Exactly.'

He sat up on his elbow, pouting. 'I don't want to go to work today. Can't we just stay here? Call in sick or something?'

'What if there's a case? I don't want to feel guilty for staying home with you and enjoying myself when someone's died and Brennan and Booth and Zack and Cam all have to work.'

'So this is the time you choose to be selfish?'

She nodded, tugging her blouse out from beneath his jeans and sliding it over her head. 'Hurry up and we'll run and get some breakfast from the diner before heading in.'

He sighed. 'Are you sure you don't want to call in sick.'

'I'm sure, Hodgins.'

* * *

Work seemed tiring and boring without her at his side. There were no cases to investigate, no crimes to solve. Only endless vials of bugs and piles of dirt.

He placed another common ladybird on the slide of his microscope and watched it crawl around for a moment, his mind wandering.

This was proving to be a problem. Since he had arrived at approximately nine thirty that morning, his brain had been wandering. It wandered back to what they had done last night, the way her body felt against his when he woke up. It wandered back to their first date, on those childish swings. It wandered across the medico-legal forensics lab to where she was sitting, at her desk, wearing the same clothes she had the day before and grinning that little smile of hers.

He stood up, deserting the ladybird and instead wandering across to her office.

'Hey,' he said, leaning on the doorframe.

'Hey.' She spun around in her seat to face him, that grin plastered across her face. 'I was just thinking about you.'

'What a coincidence.'

She stood up and took a step towards him. 'Is there something you want, Jack, or are you just here to say hi?'

He moved closer to her, pushing the door closed behind him. 'I thought it was just to say hi, but apparently there's something I want as well.'

'Really.' She gave him a smirk before turning away and sitting back down at her desk. 'Well, you're not gonna get it.'

'Why not?' he argued.

'Because we're at work. And you don't get those kind of privileges in your pay package.'

'Did I come all this way, across the forensic platform, for nothing?'

She smiled over her shoulder. 'Yep.'

* * *

Okay, so I lied. I finished this chapter while I should have been studying. But trust me, the next chapter will not be up as fast! First of all, I'm not even a hundred percent sure which one it is! But thanks for reading. I hope you enjoyed it. It is a little bit of fluff, but I'm trying to make each chapter of fluff a little different.

Thanks, Wynnie


	9. The Man In The Cell

**Chapter Nine: The Man In The Cell**

_'You look short, don't you think?' Zack comments, handing Hodgins the newspaper. The headline reads _The Clues Are In The Bones: How Forensic Anthropology Is Helping The FBI Solve Crimes.

_'Is that important?' Angela asks._

_'You're supposed to say no!' he protests. _

_'But you are short.' This time it's Zack's turn to protest._

_'Yeah, and the article describes you as robotic.'_

_'And "wildly intelligent".'_

_As the two friends bicker, Angela pulls the newspaper from the hands, scanning the article. 'Did you reallyc all me the "heart of the operation"?' she asks Jack._

_'Yeah. It was before you called me short.'_

_'Hey,' she complains. 'Zack called you short. I think you're just the right height.'_

_'Yeah?'_

_'Short men have better leverage.' She gives him a grin, placing the newspaper back down on the table._

_Zack shuffles on his feet awkwardly. 'I'm feeling uncomfortable.'_

* * *

_Jack and Brennan are discussing spices on the forensics platform. A simple conversation, a small clue about the case, but it will prove to have chilling consequences._

_'Epps likes puzzles,' Brennan says. 'The spices are a message.'_

_Jack goes to answer, but he is interrupted by a scream. He recognizes that scream._

_'ANGELA!'_

_His feet pound against the linoleum of the floor as he rushes to her office. What has happened? Is she okay? He can't have lost her, he can't have._

_'Oh my God,' he hears her breathe, and then he is standing there, watching her as she stares at a box on her table. A cardboard box that seems like an omen._

_'What happened?' he asks. She points towards the box, and they crowd around._

_'A heart,' Brennan states._

_'Definitely human,' Cam continues. Adult. DNA can give us sex.'_

_'He's killed two people today.'_

_'That's if this heart's from the same victim as the bone dust.'_

_Brennan reaches into the box, pulls from it a bloodsoaked newspaper. 'It's the DC Sentinel article about the lab. Every line is blacked out except one. "Dr Hodgins called Angela 'the heart of the operation'".'_

_'Son of a bitch,' Jack swears, running a hand through his curls anxiously. 'You don't have to stay in here, Angela.'_

_'How did this even get in here? I thought there was security!' Her voice is high in pitch, frightened. Cam tries to reassure that security will be doubled, but nothing will change, nothing can change her mind. She storms out of the room, trying her hardest to push everyone away._

* * *

He could hear her sobs as she walked across the forensics platform, her heels clicking against the floor. He followed her, trying to keep up, but she was on a mission, and she wasn't going to hear him out.

'Angela?' She didn't slow, didn't turn. Instead, she took a step through a door to her right, beneath a sign that reads 'Females'. But Jack didn't hesitate. He stepped through after her, catching the door before it had even finished closing. 'Angela.' He sighed as he saw her. She had collapsed against the wall, knees brought up to her chest, and her eyes were rimmed in red. He could see the tears forming at the corners of her eyes and spilling over her smooth porcelain skin and down her cheeks.

'Go away, Hodgins.'

'No.' His voice was calm, clear, and he took a step towards her. 'I'm not leaving.'

'I don't wanna talk about it.'

He nodded, taking another step closer. 'I know you don't. But I don't want you to push me away either.' He settled himself down beside her, a few inches seperating them. He didn't move to touch her, or to wrap his arm around her. He only sat.

There was a pause, filled with meaning, too much meaning that he knew, eventually, it would spill over and leak out into the world as words. He knew her, and he knew she couldn't keep silent forever.

'Jack,' she whispered. She laid her head on his shoulder, and he took the opportunity to slip his arm around her, pulling her close to him. 'I havent' been in a situation like this before.'

'I know.'

'I mean- I mean, I've seen you upset, when you were under pressure, or when you couldn't sleep from the bad dreams, but I've never been like that.'

'I know.'

'And- and now that I'm here, I find that I'm really scared.'

He kept silent this time, only squeezing her shoulder in a small gesture. 'You can stay with me tonight if you want,' he whispered.

She nodded against his shoulder and he squeezed her again.

'Did you really barge into a ladies room to make sure I was okay?' she asked.

'Yeah, you got a problem with that?'

She let out a short laugh, snuggling deeper into his shoulder. 'No. But what if someone comes in and sees you.'

'I'll tell them you wanted a quickie but the thought of the urinal grossed you out.'

She laughed, wiping her cheeks to remove the tears. The world suddenly felt a whole lot smaller, now that he was here, beside her, holding her tight. The world around them seemed to dull, no longer a place where serial killers roamed loose, leaving bleeding hearts on their workbenches. There was no death, no disease. There was only him, and his laugh, and the way he protectively wrapped his arm around her shoulder.

She slid her hand across his stomach and brought it to rest on his hip, forming a kind of hug. 'Thanks, Jack.'

'Hey, you would have done the same for me.'

'Angela?' a voice called out. 'Hodgins?' The door to the ladies room opened with a bang and Cam stood in the doorway, hands on her hips. 'Are you a girl Dr Hodgins?'

'No,' he replied. 'But I have a girlfriend who needs me.'

Cam sighed and turned to walk away. 'Go home, guys. Get away from here.' And she left.

'Let's go, Ange,' Jack whispered into Angela's ear, and pulled her to a standing position. He took her hand in his and together they walked out of the ladies room and down to the parking lot, back to Jack's house.

* * *

'Why is it?' Angela asked, lifting herself higher in the chair and higher onto his lap. 'That the times that we end up at each other's places always involve tears?'

'Hey, not always,' he argued. 'There's the sexy times too.'

'Yes, but then it's just for sexy time, and we don't sit here and talk like the we do when there's tears involved.'

'I thought you liked the sexy time?' he asked with a laugh, squeezing her tight around her waist.

'I do, but sometimes I like the talking too. With all the other guys I've dated, all it was was sexy time. I didn't really want to share myself. With you, sometimes all I wanted to do is sit next to you and tell you how much you mean to me.'

'Wow, Ange. That's pretty sentimental.'

'Who made the court ruling that I can't be sentimental?' She turned her head so she could look into his eyes. 'I'm really sentimental.'

'I know.'

'Then what was your comment for?'

'I just-' he stuttered. 'I just- I feel the same okay? I like talking to you, especially about us. It makes me feel like this-' He motioned with his hands to indicate the two of them. '-isn't just a summer fling. We mean something. You and I.'

'I'm glad,' she whispered. She leaned back into him, licking her lips absently as she ran her hand along his bearded cheek. He moved his lips to her neck, pulling her hair aside to touch her skin. 'Mm,' she murmured. 'Why are you teasing me, Jack?'

'Why are you being so gorgeous?'

She gave him a smile, sliding off his lap so she could face him. He crossed his legs and she sat herself opposite him, holding his hand in her lap. She ran her thumb along his palm, tracing the lines with a light touch. A small moan escaped his lips and she pressed his hand to hers in reply. He ran his hand along her cheek, brushing his thumb along her skin, and he leaned towards her, pulling her closer to him. Their lips brushed, soft and tender, barely a connection. Then he ran his lips along her skin, laying gentle kisses along her jaw and her neck.

'Angie, have I told you how much I love you?' he breathed to her neck.

'I think you've mentioned it before.'

'I think that amount might have doubled.'

'Why?'

'You're just too beautiful for me not to love.' He tore his lips away from her for a moment, standing up quickly and pulling her with him. He wrapped his arms swiftly around her waist and pulled her close. 'Am I allowed to show you how much, now?'

She nodded, pressing her lips to his. 'You're always allowed.'

* * *

Okay. Here's the newest chapter. Hope you enjoyed :) *EDIT: More content has been added to this chapter.*


	10. The Man In The Mansion

**Chapter Ten: The Man In The Mansion**

_Jack turns the photo over in his hands, staring at the picture. Her strawberry blonde hair, falling in perfect curls, frames her face. The girl he used to love. She was standing there, in a beautiful white dress, next to the man who had once been Jack's best friend and was now dead, on Cam's autopsy bench._

_He put down the photo, blinking to hold back tears. He turns to another shot, one of four men, dressed in nothing but guitars and drums. One of these men was Jack. He had no beard then, his curls were shorter, but his smile was broad, reminiscent of a younger time. He had been with his friends, sharing stories, sharing moments that would forever remain imbedded in his memory._

_He slides the photo from its frame, glancing over the words written on the back. _Stoner, Tripp, Me & Hodgins, August '95.

'_Hodgie?' Angela asks, coming up behind him. _

'_Yeah?' he asks, spinning in his seat and quickly pushing the photograph beneath the pile on his desk. 'Hey. Good morning, Angela.'_

'_I have blood spatter patterns on my computer if you need to match them to anything you have here.'_

_He nods. 'Uh, yeah, thanks. I'll come look after I get through the evidence from the desk.'_

'_You okay?' he asks with a raised eyebrow, curious and worried. _

'_Mhm. Yeah.'_

'_Yeah? Wanna have lunch later?'_

'_Okay,' he agrees. 'Yeah.'_

_She gives him a final glance before turning and walking away. Letting out a breath he hadn't noticed he was holding, he pulls the photograph back out from beneath the pile, looks it over once more and places it in the inside pocket of his jacket.

* * *

_

'Are you ready?' Angela asked, pulling her jacket over her shoulder as she approached Jack's desk. His eyes flicked up to her quickly before falling back down to his work. The same bug had been sitting under his microscope for the last half hour and the form for his findings still lay empty.

'Um, I'm a bit busy here, Angela. Can we do it later?'

She gave him an irritated scowl, placing her hands on her hips. 'What's wrong, Jack? You're being all distant and moody and it's not like you to pass up lunch with me.'

He shrugged. 'Just trying to get this case wrapped as soon as possible.'

'You still need to eat.'

'I'll grab a sandwich from the canteen and eat here.'

'I want to spend time with you.'

He gave a sigh and spun around in his seat to face her. 'I'm sorry,' he said. 'But I can give you some money and you can take yourself out somewhere nice. On me.'

She reached a hand up to touch his cheek and a flicker of a flinch crossed his face. She pulled away quickly. 'I don't want to go out for lunch if you're not coming with me.'

'I'm sorry, Angela,' he said again, and turned away, finishing the conversation. She gave another sad sigh and walked away.

* * *

_He stands at her door, takes a deep breath. He hasn't seen her in so long, not since he caught her sleeping with his best friend, since she broke his heart. He presses the doorbell slowly, cautiously, unsure as to the result of his actions. He waits anxiously, wringing his hands together until she answers._

'_Hi, Clarissa,' he says as she reaches the door and opens it for him._

'_Hodgins. I...' She pauses, unsure as to how to continue. 'You heard about Terry?' she finally finishes._

'_Can I come in?'_

_She nods, opens the door wider. 'Last time I saw you, you didn't have a beard.'_

'_Last time you saw me I couldn't grow a beard.' He takes a step towards her. 'I'm sorry about Terry. It makes everything that happened between us look...' He trails off, unable to continue. She finishes for him._

'_Meaningless.'_

_He doesn't nod, only a flicker of thought crossing his features. 'Just a lot less important than it seemed at the time.' He waits a beat, looks towards her. 'I got over us, Clarissa.'_

'_Then how come it took Terry getting murdered for you to show up at our door?'_

_He pauses, but doesn't answer. Instead, he pulls the photograph from his pocket and hands it to her, letting her uncrease the folds. The photograph sits on her hand and she looks at it._

'_Where did you get this?'_

'_I work at the Jeffersonian Institution. I'm on the case. This showed up with the evidence.'_

'_I don't understand?' she asks, looking up at him. Unlike Angela, he can look over her. 'Why are you bringing it to me?'_

'_If my bosses were aware that I knew the victim, or his wife, they'd remove me from the investigation. And I would really like to help catch whatever son of a bitch murdered my friend.'_

'_So if someone introduces us...?' she asks._

'"_Nice to meet you, Ms Bancroft, and you too, Dr Hodgins".'_

'_Got it.' She gives him a small sad smile as he walks towards the door. 'Hodgins? Terry and I were... having some marital problems. But we were getting through it. That's going to make me a suspect, isn't it?'_

_He looks at her for a moment, studying her. But he doesn't not answer. Instead, he whispered. 'I can't talk about it, Clarissa.' And he opens her front door, walking away into the night.

* * *

_

'_Good evening, Ms Bancroft,' Booth says as the door to the house opens. He stands aside to introduce Jack. 'This is Dr Hodgins, from the Jeffersonian. We were wondering if-'_

'_Very pleased to meet you,' Jack interrupts quickly._

'_Nice to meet you, Dr Hodgins. Clarissa Bancroft.' She gives him a courteous smile and Booth raises his eyebrows but asks nothing._

'_Dr Hodgins needs to take a look inside, in the den, if that's alright.'_

'_Oh? What are you looking for?'_

'_Muskrat.'_

_Hodgins steps past Booth and into the house, heading towards the den. He averts his gaze from Clarissa, anything to stop a glimmer of recognition that could give them away to Booth. Because Booth could read people like books. That was his specialty._

'_How long will Dr Hodgins be in there?' Jack hears Clarissa say from the foyer. _

'_Oh, you know, a homicide investigation is pretty invasive. Both the family and the victim lose all their privacy.'_

'_I understand.'_

'_Do you?' he hears Booth pry. 'Because, uh, it's inevitable that we find out everything.'_

_She doesn't respond. Instead, she changes the topic, but Jack cringes as she hears her knew choice of words. 'What kind of a doctor is Jack?'_

'_Bugs,' Booth replies. 'Slime. There's fancier names, but… that's about it.'_

'_You know, don't you,' she continues. 'You know that I had an affair.'_

'_It's best that you tell me everything.'_

'_It ended three months ago. Terry and I were working through it.'_

'_Separate vacations?' Booth asks._

'_I didn't say it wasn't difficult. You can love someone and still hurt them. You need his name?'_

'_Yeah.'_

'_Leland Oliver. He's our financial consultant.'_

'_So, you divorce your husband…?' Booth asks, trailing off. The question does not need completing. She understands what he means._

'_I would have gotten, at most, half of his money. This way I get it all. Leland knew better than anyone. That's exactly why I didn't say anything earlier.'_

_Jack hears a pause, and he stands up straighter, listening out for the next piece of information to fall from either of their lips. _

'_How did you know Dr Hodgins' first name?' Booth asks finally._

'_You introduced us.' There is a waver in her voice as she replies, clearly unsure as to what to say._

'_I never said his first name.'_

_Jack takes a breath, pauses, steps out into the foyer. 'Just tell him, Clarissa.'

* * *

_

'_Alright, look,' Hodgins says quickly as Booth walks away from him, out the front door of Clarissa's mansion. 'I'm sorry, but it doesn't change anything. Hey, this is not a problem!'_

'_Not a problem?' Booth spins to face Jack, and the smaller man cowers. Despite his wealth, his height still fails him and his nerve falls beneath Booth's stern exterior. 'Not a problem, huh? I ought to arrest you for tampering with evidence! This goes to trial, you are in Ibiza, or Antarctica on vacation. Start looking for another job.'_

_And he turns away, back to his car, leaving Hodgins standing on Clarissa's front lawn, unsure how he's supposed to get home.

* * *

_

'_How do you think they found out about Hodgins and Clarissa Bancroft?' Dr Brennan asks. She is standing in the courthouse lunch room with Booth, discussing the case. The defence had used Jack's relationship with Clarissa to dismiss all the evidence they had to put the killer away._

'_It's a classic defence move. You just check out the wife for motive, run through the ex-lovers.'_

_He pauses as their prosecutor approached, Jack in tow. 'Well, the judge didn't dismiss the case, which is a miracle,' Caroline says. '"Better you don't know, Caroline". I figured it was something small, like a typo on a search warrant, but no. Turns out Hodgins had motive to kill the man himself.'_

'_Eight years ago, maybe. But not now. I've got Angela.'_

'_Hello! If I might continue. The judge has allowed you twenty-four hours to come up with additional information that has never been seen, heard, smelled, touched, or considered by Dr Hodgins. Twenty-four hours.'

* * *

_

'_Hodgins was all over this case,' Cam complains, standing out the skeleton of Jack's ex-best-friend. 'We need something brand new. Or something that Hodgins didn't touch.'_

'_Uh, both weapons, blood spatter evidence…' Zack lists, trailing off._

'_Right. Trace evidence from the scene, the heroin, the sweatshirt…' Angela continues. 'I mean, we've covered it all.'_

_Brennan leads down to examine the bones closer. 'The answer is here in front of us. Just like always.'_

'_Well…' Zack mumbles to himself, but Angela holds up a hand to stop him. She can see that Brennan is on the verge of a breakthrough and she doesn't want to ruin the moment._

'_The fungus!' Brennan finally blurts out._

'_What fungus?'_

'_The fungus Zack found along the interior cervical vertebrae.'_

'_Typical cadaver mould.'_

'_Let's have it identified.'_

'_That would usually be Hodgins' job,' Angela says._

'_Not this time.'_

'_So we all agree it's Aspergillus,' Brennan says._

'_But there are a hundred and eighty-five strains of Aspergillus.' Zack is leaning over the bench next to Angela and Brennan, trying to identify the fungus. Pictures of different strains flash by for comparison._

'_Clavius, glaucus, flavus…'_

'_They all look totally alike to me.'_

_Angela stops the scrolling and points to two different examples of strains. 'No, these two are different.'_

'_I don't see it.'_

'_Well they're both… puddly.'_

'"_Puddly?"' Zack raises his eyebrows, looks at the fungi again._

'_Well, by "puddly", I mean the hyphae are septate and hyaline. And the conidiophores originate from the basal foot cell located on the supporting hyphae and…' She trails off as the others stare at her, mouths open in incredulity. '… terminate in a vesicle.'_

'_Aspergillus ustus.' Zack names the label of the strain._

'_You found it,' Brennan says proudly, placing a hand on Angela's back. 'Exactly how much time have you been spending with Hodgins?'_

_Angela only gives her a sad smile in reply.

* * *

_

'What's going on here, Hodgins?' she asked. They were walking together from the courthouse towards his car.

'Nothing.'

'Don't think you can fool me. I know seeing your ex-fiancé again was freaky for you, and the death of a friend and all that, but you don't have to be all distant.'

'I'm fine, Angela.'

She stopped, laying a firm hand on his arm to make him stop as well. 'You're not, Jack.'

'Can we just… not talk about it?' His eyes were dark and almost sad as he looked at her. 'Please.'

She sighed and took his hand and together they climbed into his car, driving back to her house. He could stand the sight of being inside his own mansion at the moment. Being rich did bad things to you, he'd discovered, and it was easiest if you just pretended the money didn't exist.

But she was right. Something was wrong. He hadn't wanted to commit since Clarissa. He hadn't wanted to make that kind of connection that meant he was lost, too far gone for his own good. But he had fallen for Angela, and he didn't want to spend more time being away from her. He wanted to be with her forever.

But marriage… he hadn't considered marriage since Clarissa, and she had torn him in two when he realised she was sleeping with his best friend. He didn't want to feel that pain again. Not with Angela.

But he couldn't imagine a world without her.

* * *

Hey everyone! Here's a new chapter up! It's taken me a while to get onto writing this one, and it i've got some muses running through my head for one of my other fanfictions on a different site, so I'm not sure how quickly I'll be updating at the moment. We'll have to wait and see. But hopefully you enjoyed this. If you didn't get the end, it was a hint that Jack is thinking about proposing. It was kind of obvious, but I just thought I'd mention it. Also, to everyone who reads and reviews, THANK YOU. You are loved.

Wynnie


	11. The Priest In The Churchyard

**Chapter Eleven: The Priest In The Churchyard**

'_He has kind eyes. How did you know he had kind eyes?' Jack's voice is almost verging on incredulous as he examines the photo in Angela's hands. They are discussing the victim of their latest case, but that is suddenly out of his mind, and instead, he is thinking about her. He looks up to her, his gaze running along the slight curl of her hair and finally falling on her chocolate eyes._

'_I had to make a choice, so I chose kind.'_

'_And you wonder why I love you.' He gives her a wide smile and turns to their boss, who is standing beside them, hands on hips, wishing only to get back to the case. 'Is she not fantastic?'_

'_You aren't seriously asking me to be a part of this?' Cam asks. 'Get your rendering over to Booth so they can show the priests. I am gonna go re-saturate the dried blood, see if it's of any value.' _

_And she leaves with a sigh, desperately wanting to avoid any kind of scene they might make. Because she knew they had a habit of making scenes.

* * *

_

'I'll take this over to Booth,' Angela said, giving Jack a smile.

'Yeah, I better get back to this water pipe. Maybe I can pull something more from it.'

He went to sit down at his seat, but she didn't move to walk away. 'What is it, Ange?'

She paused before taking a step closer and leaning against his workbench. 'Did you really mean what you said before?'

He looked up at her, face mixed with confusion. 'Why wouldn't I? I've said it before, haven't I?'

'Yeah, but then it was usually in the morning after I stayed over, or when I was upset, or when you were upset.'

'Are you saying that I can't tell you I love you at work?'

'No!' she replied quickly. 'I-I just didn't think you would.'

Jack stood up, moving around the workbench to stand next to her. He slid his arm around her waist and pulled her closer to him so he could kiss her cheek. 'Well, you thought wrong, baby.'

She smiled at his words and turned to pick up her drawing again. 'I really should get these to Booth.'

'You really should.' But he kissed her again before letting her go.

He waited till she was a few metres away before calling out, 'My place! Tonight!'

She smiled, but only waved back to him over her shoulder.

* * *

Jack sat at his desk, unsure how he was going to do this. He'd proposed before, with Clarissa, but she was so much different from Angela. She was soft, gentle, and thought everything through before she considered anything. Angela was feisty, quick on her feet, and more than just impulsive. He couldn't do the same thing, because it wouldn't work. But he didn't know what he could do.

He wanted to marry Angela. He knew that. He'd known it for a little while, but it had been sitting at the back of his mind, not bringing itself forward. It had lurked around, waiting for him to come to the conclusion and then bounding to the front to make itself heard. It was now all he could think about.

He considered what it would be like, waking up every day to her beside him, sitting up on her elbow with that little smile on her face and watching him. He thought about what it would be like to cook breakfast for her everyday, or go out for a coffee, but always have somewhere to come home to, no need for the awkward conversation about whose place it would be that night. There would be nothing but bliss, nothing but spending every waking moment with her, growing old with her, having kids with her. With Angela.

But just at the thought, his mind started reeling. He loved her, and he was almost positive that she loved him just as much, but would she agree to marry him if he asked. Would she agree to sign over her single life for him. He was willing, for her, but he wasn't sure that she would feel the same. She was too free-spirited, and that was his main concern.

What would he be if she wouldn't marry him?

* * *

'_It's 7.30, Hodgins,' she says, stepping up to his bench._

'_I thought maybe the same shovel was used as the murder weapon. The metal residue on the skull is some sort of silver alloy.'_

_She places her hands on her hips, looking down at him. 'You said you were going to be finished in a minute. That was an hour ago.'_

_Jack knew she was right, but he also knew he had been trying to come up with the perfect way to propose, and it was taking up the part his mind that had been keeping an eye on the time._

'_If I can narrow down the smelting process of the silver, I might be able to figure out what kind of weapon we're looking for.'_

_She gives a grin, leaning over his bench. 'I love it when you talk about smelting.'_

_He stands up, walking around until he's facing her, with nothing in between them. 'You do?' She nods slightly and he cups her face in his hands, kissing her like he has been wanting to do all day. He pulls away too soon for her tastes, but leaves his hands on her face, running his thumbs along her cheekbones. 'Move in with me,' he says._

'_What?'_

'_We already live together, just... just move in.'_

'_No, we don't.'_

'_You've taken over my closet. It's over half full. And over half in the common law definition of living together.'_

'_I have my own place, Jack,' she says, insistent. She can't move in with him. She can't relinquish the control on her life. This was what he had been afraid of. 'I need my place.'_

'_I need you,' he whispers. But she doesn't answer. Instead, they are interrupted by Cam, and the moment is lost. He knows she won't agree now. He knows that he will have to pull out more than just a hasty proposition to have her in his life completely. The problem is, what can he do?

* * *

_

'_Hey,' Angela says. 'Have you noticed anything going on between Brennan and Booth?'_

_Hodgins come to attention, leaning forward in his seat. 'This sounds good.'_

'_There's tension,' she explains. 'Ever since Brennan let Sully sail off into the sunset without her.'_

'_Nah,' he says. 'I didn't notice. But then again, I didn't notice that you didn't want to live with me either.' His tone is suddenly harsh, hurt and she tentatively lays a hand on his shoulder. _

'_Hodgins.'_

'_If you are getting cold feet...' he trails off._

'_You would be the only one that would feel them.'_

'_Angela.' His voice is strained, his eyes strong and pleading._

'_We'll discuss it at lunch,' she says._

'_The Egyptian place?' _

_She nods, but says nothing more on the topic.

* * *

_

'_So is this really Cleopatra's bed?' Angela asks as they lie beneath the gold sheets. _

'_Perfect replica. For the new exhibit. We're just making it a little bit more authentic.' He kisses her shoulder gently, sweetly. 'Your feet aren't cold anymore.'_

_She lets a dry laugh escape her lips. 'Nice try.'_

'_Hey, I thought I was successful, but if you want me to try harder...' He moves so he is over her, pressing his lips to her and pushing his tongue into her mouth in a deep kiss. 'We can't keep our hands off each other,' he breathes. 'I think about you all the time.'_

'_Mhm,' she murmurs in reply._

'_Moving in is the next logical step.'_

'_I have a lease.'_

'_I have an estate. I'll buy out your lease.'_

_She sighs, but doesn't argue. Instead she says, 'We only have fifteen more minutes.'_

'_You said we would talk.'_

'_Yeah, well, guess what?' she says, running a hand along his chest. 'I got distracted.'

* * *

_

'_So things are all right?' Angela asks her best friend as they stand alone on the forensics platform._

'_According to the psychiatrist, we were both concerned that Booth was the reason that I didn't run off with Sully.'_

'_It wasn't?"_

'_No, it's because I'm currently unable to live a life without tangible focus, so, you know, sailing around paradise with a man I adore...'_

_Angela raises her eyebrows. 'And you believe that?'_

'_Well, if I expect people to defer to me as an anthropologist, I have to concede to their fields of expertise.'_

'_Right.' From Angela's tone, Brennan can tell that she doesn't believe her._

'_And our working relationship has definitely improved so...'_

'_Mmm,' Angela says, thinking things over. 'Maybe I should talk to this guy.'_

'_Why?'_

'_Hodgins asked me to move in with him, but I'm... I'm not sure. I mean, what's the problem? Hodgins is perfect. I'm nuts about him.'_

_Brennan doesn't hesitate. 'I'll call the doctor.'

* * *

_

Jack stood alone at his desk, wondering what he'd done wrong. He'd been impulsive, spur of the moment, the kind of thing that Angela did on a regular basis. But still, she hadn't agreed. He'd provided the best show he could manage in the replica of Cleopatra's bed, and he'd even done some major sweet-talking, but apparently, that still wasn't enough.

He almost felt mad that she wouldn't just agree to live with him. But he quickly pushed that thought from his mind. He wasn't mad at her. He could never be mad at her. He was more mad at himself, that he hadn't been able to be what she wanted, and it frustrated him to no end.

'Is it because I'm short?' he asked himself out loud, but he knew that wasn't the reason. The problem was, he didn't know the reason.

* * *

'_Dr Wyatt?' Brennan asks, leading Angela to the booth of the diner. 'We need you to do it with her.'_

_Gordon Gordon, so named because of his habit to introduce himself as 'Gordon, Gordon Wyatt', is Booth's psychiatrist. He is British, and very good at his job. He is also more cunning than many people would give him the credit for._

'_W-would that I could, but uh, unfortunately, my heart belongs to another,' he says, a hint of red showing embarrassment in his cheeks._

'_No,' Angela interrupts. 'It's actually my boyfriend. He asked me to move in with him, and I need to know if I should or not.'_

'_I told her to come talk to you,' Brennan says._

'_Look, I absolutely refuse to be relegated to the role of some sort of advice columnist, or daytime television shrink.'_

'_Well, Brennan says that you're the only psychological type who's ever made any sense to her,' Angela says gently. _

'_Yes, well, now of course you're flattering me, so obviously I'm helpless. Alright, so what made you think you should move in with him in the first place?'_

'_The closet test,' Brennan declares._

'_Over half of his closet is filled with my things.'_

'_I see, and what about your own closet? It overfloweth with his things, does it?'_

'_Uh, no,' Angela says. 'It doth not.'_

'_Well then, I suggest you wait until it does, thus rendering you manifest equals. Tabling until that day, the vexed question of who should move in with whom.'_

'_He is good,' Angela comments._

'_I told you.'_

'_As a stopgap,' Gordon Gordon continues. 'You should remove enough clothing form his closet, so as to occupy less than thirty percent of the space.'_

'_You know, the accent makes everything that you say sound really smart,' Angela compliments. She turns to Brennan, a smile on her face. She whispers in a british accent, '"Stopgap".'

* * *

_

When Jack arrived home, Angela was standing on his doorstep, hands on hips. 'What's going on, Ange?'

'Open the door,' she ordered, without answering his question.

'What?'

'Just open the door.'

He handed her the key and she unlocked the heavy wood door, rushing through and up the stairs to his bedroom.

'What are you doing, Angie?' he called after, taking the steps two at a time to try and keep up.

'I'm clearing your closet.'

'What?'

'I'm clearing out my stuff.'

He reached her as she opened his closet, pulling her things in piles and placing them on the bed roughly. 'Why?' he asked. 'Are you breaking up with me?'

She paused, spinning around. His face was downcast, confused, and a little bit mad. She shook her head, taking a step towards him. 'No. Because I have a whole heap of my stuff in your closet, but there's hardly anything of yours in mine. I'm making you a deal.'

His eyes lit up a little, the anger faded, and instead he watched her. 'Explain.'

'When my closet is half filled with your stuff, then I'll move in with you.'

He noticed her use of the words 'move in', nothing more, nothing less, but he ignored its implications. 'So, if I take my stuff over to your apartment right now, that would count?'

'No,' she said, pulling another handful of her clothes from his closet before approaching him and playfully snaking her arms around his waist. 'Because that would be cheating.'

And she placed a quick kiss on his lips before pulling away again. 'One bag a night. That's it. You've gotta work your way there, Hodgins.'

He sighed. 'Okay, then. Fine. Let me drive you across to your apartment then, and we'll start tonight.'

A smile graced her lips and she pulled her belongings into a large bag, as he pulled his own clothes from his wardrobe, packing them on top.

* * *

Hey all! Another new chapter. You should have seen how pumped I was to write this, because now there are two more chapters already written before I have to start actually putting some work in again! So if you review, I'll post the next one soon. I love this story, mainly because I'm always doing something different each chapter, and I hope you like it too!

Wynnie


	12. Spaceman In A Crater

**Chapter Twelve: Spaceman In A Crater**

'_How- how are you feeling?' His voice is wavering as he sits opposite her in the fancy restaurant, wearing a tuxedo. She's wearing a red dress, form-fitting, and he's already told her she looks beautiful. For a moment he can't help but stare. But then, he remembers why he is here, and his nerves come back._

'_What do you mean?' she asks._

'_It's a good meal. Nice bottle of wine. You feeling loved?'_

_She grins. 'You didn't need to do all of this to get me in a loving mood.'_

_He lets out a short laugh, runs a hand through his hair nervously. 'I didn't mean it in that way.' He pauses, watching her. He takes a deep breath to try and calm himself down. 'I am madly in love with you, Angela. And you- you are the most amazing woman that I have ever met. My life is so much better since we-'_

'_Oh my God,' she interrupts, her face filled with horror._

'_What?' His tone is anxious, and the nerves that he'd been trying to hold at bay come flooding back in. _

'_Are you breaking up with me?'_

_He almost laughs. 'Why would I get you all dressed up for dinner just to break up?'_

'_I don't know.' She shakes her head, laughing too. 'Because you're... I'm not thinking straight. Go ahead.'_

'_You know, I had this all laid out in my mind.'_

'_Mhm.' She nods._

'_You are an upsetting woman.' He lets out a short laugh._

'_I'm sorry. Please. Go ahead.'_

_He takes a deep breath, pulls from the pocket of his suit jacket a small box, slides it across the table. Her face turns to his in shock._

'_I believe that if two people care enough for each other the rest of the world disappears to them,' he says. 'I feel that when I'm with you.'_

_She opens the box, sees the diamond ring sitting inside. It's large, but he can afford it. Despite that, she still feels embarrassed of the money he has spent on her. She doesn't want him to spend money on her like that, make her feel as if she needs to repay him. _

'_I'm prepared to put you ahead of me for the rest of my life,' he continues, his voice barely more than a whisper. 'Angela Montenegro, will you marry me?'_

_She leans across the table, presses her palm to his cheek. Gently, she kisses his lips, soft and sweet. She can feel him smiling beneath her, because he thinks she is saying yes. She wants to say yes._

'_Dear man,' she says, pulling away. She lays her hand on his chest. 'Good heart. No.'_

'_Why?' he asks. His voice is desperate. He can't understand. She doesn't understand herself. 'I didn't do it right again. But... how...? Oh, you're not gonna tell me.'_

'_I don't know, Hodgins. If I knew, I would tell you. But when you ask me, I have to have this... this feeling. It has to be...' She pauses, watching him. 'I'll know it when it happens and I hope you won't stop trying.'_

'_I don't know if I should laugh, cry or punch out the sommelier,' he says._

'_I'm sorry,' she replies. 'I hope you choose laugh.'_

'_I don't understand.'_

'_I don't either.' She takes his hand, squeezing it. 'Look, let's just finish the dessert and go back to your place and make love, and maybe it'll come to me.'_

'_While we make love?' he laughs._

'_I said maybe.'_

'_But...' he asks. 'You love me?'_

_She sighs. 'More than you know.

* * *

_

She sat on the edge of his bed that night as he dreamed. She couldn't lay beside him, no matter how much she wanted to. Her thoughts were racing around her head, and she needed space, needed to think, and find a way to show him what she meant.

Because despite what he had said and what he had agreed to, the fun they had had that evening, his eyes still had a darkness behind them, and she knew he was trying to figure her out, figure out why she refused his proposal. For the second time.

She stood up, walking out of the bedroom and across the hall to the bathroom. The cold tiles beneath her bare feet made her shiver, but she ignored them, and instead ran the hot water through the faucet of the sink, splashing her face with it.

Why had she refused him? She didn't really know. His proposal had been sweet, romantic, and more than it needed to be. She knew she wanted to marry him, but somehow, now didn't seem like the right time. She wanted his proposal to give her a certain feeling in her stomach, like the look on actresses faces when their leading man proposes. You just know that it's right, and there's no way you can refuse.

And she hadn't gotten that when Hodgins proposed. She didn't know if she ever would.

She padded out of the bathroom and down the stairs to the kitchen, searching in his fridge for nothing in particular. For someone with so much money, his fridge was decidedly empty. Finally, she settled on pulling out the juice and taking a swig straight from the bottle.

'Angela?' his voice called from upstairs, searching for her. 'Where are you?'

She sighed, moving to sit on a stool at the breakfast bar. 'I'm down here.'

'What are you doing?' he asked, coming down the stairs. He was wearing only his boxers, and she was surprised that he'd even managed to find them beneath the mess of clothes they had left at the foot of the bed.

'I'm just thinking,' she replied.

'About what?'

'Us.'

He paused, watching her, eyebrows raised. 'Is that a good thing?'

'I don't know.'

'Well, what are you thinking of?' He came and stood beside her. She wanted him to wrap his arms around her waist, make her feel like she didn't have anything to worry about, but he kept his distance, cautious, and she knew she did.

'I'm... I'm thinking of why I couldn't say yes to you.'

His eyebrows raised in question. 'Have you figured out?'

She shook her head. 'No. But I know you don't understand, not really. And it hurts me to think that you don't think I love you, just because I can't marry you yet.'

'I don't think that!' he tried to argue, but she shook her head again, silencing him.

'You may not think you do, but I can see it in your eyes, Jack. You're holding back. You're cautious. You don't want to upset me, and you're not sure what I want anymore.' She sighed, running a hand through her hair. 'All I want is you, Jack.'

He took a small step towards her, so they were face to face. She couldn't hold his gaze, but he placed a finger beneath her chin, lifting her head so they were level. Sometimes, she thought he did that so he could feel as if he had some kind of height to his name.

The thought made her laugh and he raised an eyebrow. 'What are you laughing at?'

'Nothing,' she whispered, trying to calm down. 'I'm just... in a really weird mood, and... just... Jack, believe me when I say I want to marry you. It just has to be right, okay?'

'When will it be right?'

'You'll know when I agree,' she said, and he sighed, wrapping an arm around her shoulder and hugging her to him.

'I guess I'll just have to put up with you despite your funny moods until then, eh?'

She nodded. 'Yeah.'

He gave her a small smile. 'Then let's make the most of it.' And he lifted her from her chair and carried her back up to his bedroom.

* * *

Another chapter! Only a few more to go and then we'll be moving on to the more... angstyish stuff. not complete angst yet but still. the moments of bliss will be ending shortly. So enjoy this while you can! And thanks again to everyone who reviews! I really appreciate the feedback, even if my replies are only a few words!

Love you all

Wynnie


	13. The Glowing Bones In The Old Stone House

**Chapter Thirteen: The Glowing Bones In The Old Stone House**

'_Hey, what are you doing in here?' Angela asks. Jack is standing in front of his desk, arranging shrimp in patterns. 'I thought we were going to go for sushi.' She takes a deep breath in and catches a smell of the shrimp. 'Ugh, it smells like sushi in here.'_

'_Yeah.' He grabs Angela's arms and leads her over towards the bench, turning her so she is facing him. 'Look, Angela,' he says. 'I've been thinking. You're not like anyone I've ever known. And I don't want that to change. So I'm taking you the way you are. No strings.'_

_She crinkles her nose. 'And the smell?'_

'_P. phosphoreum.'_

'_Oh, the fish bacteria?'_

'_Close your eyes,' he replies. He lifts her hand to cover her eyes and leads her over to the desk. 'Be careful.'_

'_Yeah.'_

'_Okay, careful. Keep 'em closed.'_

_She sighs jokingly, but keeps her hand over her eyes. He turns to his computer and dims the lights._

'_Okay,' he says finally. _

_She lowers her hand slowly. On a tray in front of her are the shrimp, laid out to spell three words. _Be My Love. _She turns to him. 'Yes, yes. Let's get married.'_

'_What?' he asks, shocked. 'No! No, no, no, this is- this is not a proposal.'_

'_I know,' she replies. Her voice is calm, completely in contrast with his.'That's why I'm asking you.'_

'_Huh?'_

'_What you said here... that we're enough... just this, no pressure for more...' Tears are welling in her eyes and her voice is on the verge of breaking. 'That's all I've ever wanted.' She looks at him, but his face is blank, too shocked to move, or to speak. 'Hodgins, say something.'_

'_You're insane.'_

'_Is that a yes?'_

_He grabs her arms pulling her towards him. 'Absolutely.' And he kisses her. Her lips are soft and tender beneath his, but she is kissing him a passion that he loves in her, that he wants to see in her more often. As she kisses him back, he knows that she loves him. Because, for some reason, she wants to marry him, now, when he'd finally given up on marrying her and was fine with just having her. But despite this, he feels like the luckiest man alive. 'Okay,' he says when they break apart. 'Okay, um, alright. How- how about, uh, Italy! Italy in the spring? Um, Umbria?'_

'_No. Right away. Next week.'_

'_We cannot get a wedding together in a week.'_

'_We have to. One week.'_

'_Uh...' Jack is not quite sure what to say. He'd planned this moment so many times, and this was definitely not the way he had expected it to turn out._

'_I could change my mind,' she says, teasing him. 'It's up to you.'_

_And he desperately hopes she doesn't change her mind. 'Okay, yeah. Just a small little thing then.'_

'_No. Big. I want a big one.'_

_He shakes his head. She is impossible, but she is his now, and that is all that matters. 'Totally. Insane.'

* * *

_

The room was cold when they arrived, and Jack slipped through the door first to start the heater.

'What is it with you and your central heating system?' Angela laughed. Her eyes danced as she laughed, and when he looked back at her, he couldn't help but smile.

'We're in a bit of a relationship. Just engaged, actually.' He took a step towards her.

'What's that supposed to mean?'

'My central heating system? You're it, baby.' He winked and took another step towards her, wrapping his arms around her waist and lifting her off the ground. She wrapped her legs around his waist and he led her across to the couch, the two of them falling together onto the soft material.

* * *

'Whoa, Jack,' Angela murmured into his neck as they lay beside each other, now in his bed.

'Whoa, what?'

'Whoa. That was...'

'Awesome?' He raised an eyebrow as he leant on his side, facing her.

'Yeah,' she breathed. 'You've been holding out on me.'

'Is that a problem?'

'Well, it is if there's more I don't know about.'

'Baby, there'll always be more.'

'Is that a suggestion?' She ran a nail along his chest, tracing the sculpted muscles.

'It is if you want it to be.'

'Hmm.'

'Do you want it to be?'

And instead of replying, she slid her hand up to his neck, pulling her head down so she could kiss him again.

* * *

In the morning, when she woke up, his side of the bed was empty, the sheets rumpled and the dressing gown that had been hanging on the chair beside the bed was gone.

'Jack,' Angela called out, standing up and pulling one of his shirts from his wardrobe. 'Where are you?'

'Kitchen!' She slipped down the stairs and into the kitchen where he was frying eggs and bacon on the stove.

'Smells good.'

'Yeah,' he agreed. 'I thought I'd make us something special. And I haven't had bacon and eggs in a long time.' He pulled the frying pan off the stove and places it on the sink, transferring the contents to two plates.

Angela stepped up to him, wrapping her arms around his waist and kissing the back of his neck softly. He grinned beneath her touch, handing her a plate before spinning around, wrapping an arm around her shoulder to lead her to the breakfast bar. They sat down next to each other and he took a bite of his bacon, grinning as he noticed she was watching him.

'What?'

'Nothing.'

'No, seriously. What?'

'I'm just... watching you.'

'I can see that.'

'It's nothing bad.' She grinned, taking a bite of her own breakfast. Her eyes never left his face.

'I feel like your judging me.'

'No,' she laughed. 'I did that last night.'

He smiled, taking another bite. 'Yeah, you did.'

'Was it as good for you as it was for me? Coz, hell, I did a lot of judging last night, but you didn't seem to be judging me much.'

'I thought I told you this already,' he said.

'No. I asked, but you were on the verge of passing out from sheer exhaustion, so I didn't push it.'

'Oh. I could have sworn I answered. And I could have sworn that you were the one who fell asleep first.'

'Okay, yeah, maybe,' she laughed. 'But seriously. Good or bad? I have to know so I can improve.'

He smiled, putting down his fork and standing up, bringing himself a little bit closer to her. 'Perfect,' he whispered, sliding his arms around her waist. 'Absolutely perfect.'

* * *

Last chapter before I have to start putting some effort in again! Hope you enjoyed it though. Next chapter, the fail of a wedding :P

Wynnie


	14. Stargazer In A Puddle

**Chapter Fourteen: Stargazer In A Puddle**

'_Angela is already married?' Jack's voice nearly breaks as he looks at his fiance, beautiful in her white bridal gown._

'_Angela is totally, unmistakably, legally married.'_

'_As Federal employees with a security clearance,' the suit from the state department says. 'your marriage license underwent special scrutiny. Especially since your wedding was so hurried.' _

_Jack glares at him. He doesn't like the suit. Anyone who would happily ruin their wedding is evil in Jack's books. He glances at Caroline, willing an answer from the lawyer._

'_You were married in Fiji four years ago.'_

_Angela nearly laughs. 'I jumped over a broomstick with a guy.'_

_But the suit doesn't laugh. He only gives a small nod. 'I'm sorry.' And he walks away. _

'_Jack,' Angela sputters. 'I-I'm sorry. This is my fault.'_

_The step beneath them is feeling harder and harder as he looks at her. 'No worries,' he says. 'No worries, we'll just um- we'll just...' But he doesn't know what he can do. He lets a sigh escape his lips. 'There's just a lot of people in there expecting a wedding.'_

'_Yeah, I made this huge deal out of getting married and they all, they all-' _

'_Run.' _

'_What?' Angela asks Caroline, shocked. _

'_Run. Flee. Skedaddle.'_

_Jack lets a smile escape his lips. 'I like it.' He catches Angela's hand in his and pulls her into the chapel. 'Change of plans, everyone,' he calls to the crowd. 'Go directly to the reception. On us.'_

'_Thanks for coming!' Angela finishes, and together, they run from the chapel and into the world; not married, but in love. And to them at least, that's all that matters.

* * *

_

Out on the street, Jack opened the door to the limo that was waiting for them, holding it open for Angela to slip inside.

'Take us to the best hotel you've heard of,' he said to the driver as he positioned himself in his seat.

'Uh, are you sure about that? It's pretty expensive.'

Jack only raised his eyebrows.

'And I don't think they take people on such short notice.'

'I hired you on short notice, didn't I?'

The man shrugged. 'I guess so.' And he pulled out from the curb and onto the road.

'What now?' Angela asked, sliding her hand into Jack's and leaning into his shoulder.

'We get to his hotel, and we spend the rest of this weekend having great sex and not worrying about this guy you jumped over a broom with.'

She smiled. 'But you're worried, aren't you?'

He sighed. 'Yeah.'

'We'll sort it out, Jack.'

'I know we will.' He squeezed her hand. 'Doesn't mean I'm not worried. A week ago you told me we had to make this quick so you wouldn't change your mind.'

She looked at him then, eyebrows raised. 'And you think because we didn't get married in a week, I'll change my mind.'

'I'm not saying you will.' He couldn't look at her.

'But you're thinking it.'

He sighed. 'I think it's a possibility.'

'I think it's a possibility that you're an idiot, but you're not.'

'I _am _an idiot.'

Angela reached up a hand to run her fingers along his beard. 'No, you're not. You're a great man, Jack.'

'You're the only one who believes that.'

She shook her head adamantly. 'No.'

He looked at her then, leaning his cheek into her hand. 'Sometimes your impossible, you know.'

'Sometimes you have no clue how beautiful your soul is.'

He laughed. 'My soul is not beautiful. If my soul was beautiful, I wouldn't feel like running away with you and eloping right now. I would be a good little boy and give up on you now before I got myself hurt.'

A smile graced her lips and she kissed him gently. 'The beautiful soul isn't the one that does what everyone else thinks is right. The beautiful soul is the one that does what he knows is best.'

'You know, Ange, you should get into the poetry writing business.'

'No way. Art is my thing.'

'Poetry is a form of art,' he argued.

'One that requires talents in many areas that I do not have. Spelling, for one.'

'Well, Shakespeare didn't know how to spell. And he's pretty big in the poetry business, I hear.'

'You do, do you?' she laughed, and nestled herself into his shoulder.

'Yep. I don't think _'you' _is spelt with a _'th'_.'

Angela let a laugh escape her lips, and felt a bump beneath her as the limo slid into a parking space in front of a tall, fancy-looking hotel.

'Are you sure you're okay with this hotel, sir, ma'am?' the driver asked.

'We can afford it.' Jack takes Angela's hand and leads her into the hotel. He can feel the warmth from her hand radiating into his own palm and revels in it.

'The best suite you have,' he says to the receptionist. She only raises her eyebrows at his dark suit and Angela's white dress.

'Just married?'

'No.'

'Then...?' She lets the question trail off but motions to their attire and Jack shakes his head.

'Oh, no no no. We were getting married, but something came up.'

'Something... came up?'

'Yes.'

'I'm not even going to ask,' she said, and pressed a few buttons on her computer. 'Name?'

'Jack Hodgins and Angela Montenegro.'

'And how are you going to be paying for the suite, sir?'

'Credit card at check out.'

'Sure. And how long will you be staying?'

'Until Monday morning.'

'Great. See you then. Room service menus are in the rooms. Enjoy your stay.'

And with that, Jack grabbed Angela's hand and the keycards and led her towards the elevator.

* * *

The room was large, spacious, and the canopied double-bed in the middle of the room was not the largest feature. The largest feature was the hot tub in the huge bathroom.

'Wow. Hot tub,' Angela said. 'That's something you don't see everyday.'

'Have I not shown you the pool room at home?'

Her eyebrows raised. 'No.'

'Oh, well remind to show you that sometime.'

'Are you saying that you _do _see a hot tub everyday.'

'Well, it's in that bit just off the swimming pool, and its undercover, so not unless I go there, no. But it is there.'

'And why haven't we been there before?'

'I don't use it very often. I guess I forgot about it.' He gave her a sheepish grin.

'Well,' she said slowly, taking a step towards him. Her tone had changed completely, no longer annoyed. 'We'll just have to use this one, won't we?' She took another step so she was directly in front of him, and slipped her arms around his neck, pulling him towards her so she could kiss him.

His own arms slid around her waist, leaving no gap between them. His tongue explored her mouth, tasting her, remembering the way she had felt against him so many times before.

Then, suddenly, she pulled his shirt over his head and ran her fingers down his chest, grazing the skin gently. She pulled away from his lips for a moment to watch the goosebumps that rose on his skin at her touch, and she laid light kisses along his chest.

'Hey,' he said gently, placing a thumb beneath her chin to bring her lips back to his. 'Did you forget the hot tub or something?'

'We'll get there,' she grinned, and kissed him again.

* * *

They had moved from the hot tub to the bed by the next morning, and Angela's body was curled into Jack's, her fist resting lightly on his chest. His arm was around her back, holding her against him.

'What are we going to do now?' she asked.

'I'm thinking room service sounds really good right now.'

'I mean about this guy that I apparently married.'

'Hey, I thought we said we wouldn't talk about him,' Jack argued.

'You knew he'd come up eventually.'

'Yeah, but I was thinking eventually could be in at least a weeks time when I've had a chance to wrap my head around it.'

'What can't you wrap your head around?' she asked.

'The fact that you're already married! And by only jumping over a broom! While on a holiday! When I had to try so hard to get you to even consider marrying me!'

'Is Jack a little jealous?' she laughed.

'Maybe a little.'

She leaned across and kissed his jaw gently, her lips brushing the soft hair that sat there. His eyes closed beneath her touch, and his grip on her back tightened a little. With a smile, she pulled away and reached for the phone. 'What do you want for breakfast Jack?'

* * *

**Hi to all of you lovely readers! I'm soooo very sorry that this hasn't been a lot sooner in coming. I've been reading some really good books and writing some other stories, so I kind of forgot about making sure I worked on this. But here it is! Finally! The season two finale! If you want to think about it like that, of course. To me, its more the end of an era, because after this it changes a little. It's not going to be as fluffy. Hopefully we'll get some pretty hardcore angst in there soon, especially after the start of season four. But I hope you enjoyed this chapter. I'd love to hear what you think, and if there's any episodes you'd especially like me to cover and what you want to happen in them. :)**

**Fingers crossed that the next chapter will be up soon-ish. **

**Thanks for reading!**

**Wynnie**


	15. Widow's Son In The Windshield

**Chapter Fifteen: Widow's Son In The Windshield**

'_So your husband signed his name to the marriage license with an "X",' the Private Investigator asks with raised eyebrows._

'_Yeah,' Angela replies, running a hand through her dark hair._

'_So you married a guy without knowing his name?'_

'_It was Fiji, okay? I was on vacation.' Her hands move in exasperation, and Jack glances at her from the corner of his eye. He can tell she is tense, pushed to the edge, and he doesn't like to see her like this. _

'_No, no,' the PI says. 'I'm not being judgmental. I'm just trying to ascertain the... the facts. Umm, did you consummate the marriage?'_

_Jack's eyebrows raise, but Angela answers as calmly as she is able, 'Full moon. Tropics. Yeah, there was definite consummation activity.'_

'_We already looked in to having the marriage annulled,' Jack points out._

'_Annulment requires consent from both the husband and the wife.'_

'_Which is why we need a private investigator. To find the-' Jack's fingers curl into quotation marks. '-"husband". So we can get married.'_

'_Right. Well, I'm going to need any description you can provide about your husband,' the PI continues, slightly shaken at Jack's domineering attitude, despite his small stature. 'Details, dates, photographs, who else was there?'_

'_Tall,' Angela says. 'Yes. Muscular. Black.' She pauses, looking towards Jack for reassurance. 'That's all I got. You know what, I think his name had a "B" in it. Or actually, it could have been a "K". You know what, I can make you a sketch!'_

_But the private investigator only shrugs in response.

* * *

_

'Hey, are you okay?' Jack asked, slipping into Angela's office. She was bent down over her desk, pencil in hand, and she was scribbling furiously.

'Yeah.' Her voice sighed in response and she spun around to face him. 'I'm fine. I'm just trying to do this sketch.'

'Not much luck, eh?'

She shook her head in reply. 'Nope.'

'Can I see?'

She handed him the sketchpad, and he glanced over it once before his eyebrows raised incredulously. 'That's it?'

'Yeah,' she replied, biting the side of her lip. Jack watched on as a tear fell from the corner of Angie's eye, running down her cheek. She wiped it away with the back of her hand.

'Hey, hey, hey,' he said quickly, sitting down beside her. 'Ange. Ange, what's wrong?'

She shook her head again, trying to push him away, but he slid his arm around her shoulder, pulling her towards him. 'It's okay,' he whispered into her hair. 'It doesn't matter. We're gonna find him, okay?'

'Not without some kind of identification, we're not. And this is what I do, Jack. I draw faces for people that don't have names.' She sniffed into his shoulder. 'But I can't find a face for a man I _married. _I'm hopeless!'

'Hey, you're not hopeless. You're fantastic.'

'Trust you to say that. You want to marry me. You're supposed to say things like that.'

'Would I want to marry if you if I didn't think you were fantastic?'

She shrugged then, and he pulled her ever tighter.

'I love you, Ange.'

'I know you do. Doesn't mean I'm not hopeless.'

He couldn't help but laugh.

* * *

'_You were married by John Kakala, who is the head man of a hamlet called Nakavala on the island of Vatulolo during a fest in honor of the shark-god, Daquwaka.'_

_Angela's face in blank, despite the PI's efforts. 'Uh, it doesn't sound wrong.'_

'_Can't this headman tell you who Angela married?' Hodgins speaks up._

'_He's dead. Town was wiped out by tsunami two years ago. The island is deserted and no one wants to talk because the place is... ah... haunted and... ah... cursed.'_

_Jack's tone is a sarcastic drawl. 'Of course it is.'_

'_Do you happen to remember any Australians?'_

_Angela turns to face the man directly, eyeing him in a way that shows dominance, in a way that only attractive and assertive females can radiate. 'Okay, look. They have this local drink called Kava that is really-' She breaks off then before continuing. 'Anyway, when it comes to memory, no. Not so much. Which is probably why when I tried to sketch him, I only came up with this.'_

_She pulls the pad from beside her. The canvas is full of blues and greys, more abstract than reality, more Picasso than real man. _

'_Handsome,' is Jack's comment. 'Why Australians?'_

'_Well, on or around the day of the marriage license there was a tramp steamer out of Adelaide. The Innocent City may or may not have been docked on Vatulolo.'_

'_Let's track that steamer down.'_

'_It's gonna cost.' The look in the PI's eye shows greed, but Hodgins doesn't even blink._

'_Not an issue.'_

'_Thanks.'_

_The man stands up and leaves, leaving the small diner booth in which they had been sitting suddenly cozier, less business-like. _

'_You having second thoughts?' Angela asks. She is watching Jack's face, and the internal battle of raging thoughts she can see behind his eyes. Briefly, she wonders what it would be like to paint the thoughts of his._

'_You kidding?' he says finally, but she can tell his heart is not fully in it. 'Hey! This is great! Like we're on some epic adventure!'_

'_Adventure?' she mimics with raised eyebrows, but only brushes her lips against his. Because behind every adventure, be it tree-top jungle or swashbuckling seas, there is always the love story of the hero and the heroine, who try their best to stick together against all odds.

* * *

_

_The diner is the place to converse, and again, it's all about business. _

'_Do you recognize any of these men?' The photo is grainy, black and white, and too small to discern individual features of faces._

'_How is this any better than Angela's sketch?' Jack asks._

_But his fiance is already examining the photo, and her face is brightening. 'That's him!' A glance from Jack lowers her excitement. 'I mean, he, he fits the general silhouette.'_

_Jack takes the photograph from the PI, brings it to his face. 'You forgot to mention that he was a giant!' Nobody comments on Jack's obvious issue with his own height._

'_Well, this may or may not be the crew of the Australian tramp steamer, Innocent City. It was scuttled six months after you were married.'_

'_His hands are like snow shovels!' Hodgins complains, not listening to any part of the conversation, to absorbed with the photograph in his hands of Angie's husband and his enormity, especially compared to his own._

'_The man that you are pointing to,' the PI continues. 'Is known as Birimbau to his crew mates.'_

'_That's it!' Angela exclaims. 'His... his name is Birimbau.'_

'"_Birimbau" is obviously a nickname. It's a Brazilian flute. Did he speak Portuguese by any chance?'_

'_Yeah, he most definitely had an accent.'_

_From beside her, Jack starts to laugh. 'Ha! Ha! Look... look... look at his man! How hard can it be to find a guy like that? Probably can see him from the space shuttle!'_

_But Angela doesn't answer. 'Did Birimbau die when his ship sank?'_

'_Oh, that would be great!' Angela's eyes snapped in Jack's direction, warning him. 'No. No, what I mean is, we can have him declared dead.'_

_The PI's face is hard. 'He didn't die.'_

'_Too bad.' _

'_Last time I found him, he was signed on to a Liberian oil tanker bound for Tierra del Fuego.'_

_Now it's Angela's turn to get snappy. 'Oh, okay. That narrows it down. He's a sailor, he's maybe Brazilian, and he's named after a flute.'_

'_You know what else narrows it down?' Jack's voice is rising, exasperation sneaking into his features, and he runs a hand through his curls to try and calm himself down. 'He's a titan! Half man, half god. I mean, I can see why.. why you've... I mean, I totally, I do, I get it.'_

'_Hodgins, stop it,' Angela says firmly, laying a hand on his arm._

_The PI waits as Jack takes deep breaths, calming down. 'Look,' he says, when Jack's breathing is steady. 'Do I keep looking, because if you wait three years, you can declare him dead.'_

_Angela turns to her fiance. 'Do you want to wait three years?'_

'_Do you?'_

_His eyes are dark, annoyed, but they brighten at her smile. 'Definitely, absolutely not.'_

'_Me neither,' he says, with a hint of a grin._

'_Okay.'_

'_Keep searching, Mr Doyley.'

* * *

_

Jack's mind was in a mess. But that may have been expected by the ordeal he'd had in the last few weeks. It was hard to deal when you're fiance agrees to marry you, a week later you have a wedding, and then apparently she's already married and you can't go ahead. And then you find out that the competition is a six foot five giant.

It didn't help that Jack barely scraped five foot seven.

'Morning,' the call came from behind him as he sat in his chair at work, fiddling with dials on his microscope and considering preparing a slide.

'Hey.' He spun around in his chair to face her. He liked these visits from her at work, when she would give him cheeky grins, and he just knew that she was thinking of last night, or the night before, or what was going to happen that night.

'You coping okay?'

He nodded. 'You?'

Her shoulders shrugged in reply. 'It's weird. But I guess I'm a lot calmer now.'

A smile spread across his lips. 'Do I have something to do with that?'

'Maybe.' She took a step towards him and he tugged at the bottom of her shirt, bringing her even closer.

'I love you, you know.'

'Wow, look who's getting casual with his shows of affection,' Angela replied, tone light.

'Who said I was being casual? I didn't say I was being casual!'

'We're at work, Jack. You usually say you love me when you're going somewhere and I won't see you for awhile, or during sex, or when I'm upset.'

He raised his eyebrows. 'Does that mean I'm not _allowed _to say I love you?'

'Who said you're not allowed?' she laughed, echoing his earlier sentiment. 'I didn't say you weren't allowed.'

'I love you, Angela Montenegro.'

She smiled. 'Love you, too, Hodgins.'

'Aw!' He took her face in his hands and kissed her gently. 'Look who just told her fiance she loves him!'

* * *

**Hi again. I will not deny that this chapter is very very crappy. I really don't like it, but I wanted to include it coz it was really the start of the search for Birimbau and I thought it was needed. But I'd love to know what you think :)**

**Also, thanks to all my great readers who always review! cassierules, DeviantOrchid, and NCISaddict77, and to all of the rest of you out there! You're awesome!**

**Wynnie**


	16. Soccer Mom In The Minivan

_**Chapter Sixteen: Soccer Mom In The Minivan**_

_Sometimes, Hodgins couldn't even think of being unfaithful to Angela. Speaking a word against her, or ogling another girl was out of the question._

_This was not one of those times. _

'_She'll be working with you, Hodgins.' These are the words that come out of Booth's mouth and with one look at the woman in question, Jack is tongue-tied. It's not supposed to be like this, he knows, but sometimes, a man has to be a man, right?_

'_Yes, please,' is his automatic reply. His rush to correct himself is not much more eloquent. 'What? No, no. Um... ah... Hodgins. Doc-Doctor. Okay.'_

'_I beg your pardon?' the woman asks._

'_It's Ho-'_

_An interruption occurs at that moment and a part of Jack is glad for it, so that his mind is taken away._

'_He's Dr. Jack Hodgins,' his fiancee says. 'Angela,' she says pointing to herself. 'Montenegro. I do facial reconstructions.' She pauses for a moment, flicking her eyes across to Jack. 'And him.'_

_The woman smiles. 'Pleased to meet you.' She takes a step towards the equipment - Jack's equipment - and his eyes follow her form. 'I'm gonna need you to recover all the metallic particulates then I'm gonna need a chemical tray with-'_

'_Aqueous buffer solution,' Jack finishes with her. 'Yeah I know. Do you wanna perform capillary electrophoresis?'_

'_We can do that?' the woman asks._

'_Oh yeah.' Jack's voice is laced with meaning, but he jumps at a cough from Angela. All meaning suddenly drops. 'And it will save time so Angela and I can have dinner. Alone.'_

'_Hm,' Angela smiles, and she turns to leave. _

_Suddenly, this is one of the times that Jack is torn, between his biological instincts and the love of his life.

* * *

_

'Where are we, Jack?' Angela asked, as he lead her to the table at the restaurant. His hand was firm across her eyes, and her hand clung to his, attempt to pull him away.

'Oh, just a little place I found.' He released her suddenly, revealing the small, personal room, set with full cutlery, and complete with a red table cloth.

'Hodgins...' she murmured, half in warning, half in surprise. 'This is... how much did this cost?'

'Actually,' he replied with a grin. 'It was free.'

'Free?'

'Yeah.'

'How did you manage that?'

Another smile crossed his features and he motioned for her to sit down. 'I own the place,' he said.

He was expecting the shock, but still, the raise of Angela's eyebrows were not only amusing, they brought a pang to his stomach at the thought of what he was here for. To try and make up for looking at another woman.

'You own a restaurant?' she asked him, pulling a napkin onto her lap and taking a sip from the glass of wine that was already poured at the table.

'Kind of.'

'What do you mean, kind of?'

Jack bit his lip, pulling his own napkin onto his lap. 'Well, this is actually the formal dining room at my house.'

Her eyebrows raised again, in that way that made his gut churn with longing. 'Your house? We're at your house?'

'Uh, yeah.'

Slowly, a grin crept across her features. 'Well, this brings the meaning of the world alone to a whole new level.'

'That was the plan,' he replied with a smile.

'Well, do you really want to eat, or do you just want to take this wine up to your bedroom and take it from there?'

Suddenly, his anxiety was gone, and all he could think about was her. The hot bomb technician did not even register, not beside her.

* * *

_The storage basement at the Medico Legal lab is a place people don't normally go. Especially lately. The silver skeleton, riddled with human bones, that sits in place on its frame is, to most people, spooky. To Angela, not only is it spooky, it's a puzzle._

_The signs and symbols on the walls and furniture of the vault are a mystery to her, one that she is determined to solve, and that is why she is here now, stationed at her computer, comparing images and information._

'_Hey,' a voice says, and she turns around to see Jack standing at the door. 'What are you doing down here?'_

_A better question would be what he was doing down here, but she doesn't push it. 'Oh, analyzing the iconography for the Widow's Son case until somebody needs me for the bomb victim.'_

'_Look,' Jack says, taking a step towards her. 'Angie, um... Agest Frost is a colleague and I am a professional, okay? So all that stammering and stuff... I mean that's not... that isn't... you know that's involuntary - it's a bodily thing.' He runs a hand down his face, his forehead creased with worry. 'Yeah, that didn't come out right. Look, I'm not gonna deny that she is attractive-'_

'_Oh, totally hot.'_

'_What?' His eyebrows raise suddenly, and his eyes swing to connect with hers. _

'_The bombshell from the Bomb Squad. She's totally hot.'_

_He sighs slightly, the slightest escape of breath. 'Yeah, I know.' He stops. 'I mean-'_

'_Look, Jack.' Ange stands up, takes a step towards him. 'I really don't care what's going on in your pants as long as it stays in your pants.'_

_He gives her a smile. 'You know who's totally hot? You. You are totally-'_

'_Okay,' she laughs. 'Save it. What have you got?'_

'_These were in Amy Nash's bag.' Singed paper trades hands, and Angela glances them over. _

'_There's writing on them.'_

'_Yeah, Cam needs you to restore them.'_

'_Well, I'll give it a try.' A smile graces her face, and Jack returns it before he hears the call of someone else's voice._

'_Dr Hodgins! I need your samples for the spectrometer!'_

'_I- I- I- I have to... uh... so I love you and-' He lays a quick kiss on her cheek as she laughs at him._

'_Go.'_

'_Okay,' he replies with a grin, and almost trips on his way to the door.

* * *

_

'_So, where do you want me to dump this junk?' Agent Frost asks. Jack's mind, previously unable to concentrate with the close proximity of an attractive girl suddenly snaps._

'_You're tossing the air filter?'_

'_I tested it for explosive residue. There wasn't any. It was blown free from the car.'_

'_Yeah,' Jack's voice is incredulous. 'Even better. Do you have any idea what kind of treasures might be trapped in here?' He rips the air filter from her grasp and stares her down, not a single thought of attraction in his mind. 'Don't touch my things.' He steps away to work on the air filter and motions to the security guard as he passes. 'Watch her.'_

_Agent Frost only stares on in confusion, and the slightest hint of disappointment.

* * *

_

'_Where's the bombshell from the bomb squad?' Angela asks, sidling up to Jack's desk._

'_She went back to the FBI to catalog evidence. Thank God. She was driving me crazy. It was just science all the time. Then, she tries to destroy perfect good evidence-'_

'_What about the breasts?' Angela asks, stopping his stream of words._

'_I started thinking about them dragging on the floor when she's 70.' Angela smiles, and leans down towards him to place a kiss on his lips. 'How are you doing?' he asks her._

'_Well, that burned paper? It's a letter that she wrote. So I'm using the spectral comparator to locate the ink particles.'_

'_Cool,' Jack smiles, but his heart isn't in. He doesn't really care about the case. Not right now._

'_The computer is rendering the content now, so...' Angela says. 'You?'_

'_I found pollen.'_

'_Oh?'_

'_Most of it is Pinus Appalachiana. Shenandoah...' His eyebrows raise in realization, and a smile crosses his face. '... Pine, which is only found on Shenandoah Mountain in West Virginia. There was also crushed Pendleton Leather Flower in the tire treads which is only found here in the Shale Barrens along the upper Potamic - it is very secluded between the towns of Hendersonville and Maple Flats!' He stands up. 'Booth! I know where you can find Watkins!'_

'_That's nice work, Hodgins,' Angela says with a grin. 'You know, my computer is gonna be rendering for a while. Wanna go to the medieval storage room?'_

_From beneath his desk he pulls the helmet from a suit of armour. His answering grin is mischievous and knowledgeable of things to come. _

'_Oh,' Angela says._

'_Booth!' Hodgins calls out again. His feet are jittery, impatient. 'What the hell is taking you so long?' Without waiting for Booth to arrive, Angela cups his face in her hands and kisses him again, long and hard.

* * *

_

The medieval storage room was lit from windows high in the walls and their chances of being caught were minimal. The helmet was now back on its proper suit of armour, and the large canopy bed on which Jack and Angela laid was hidden from any security cameras that may have been placed around the room.

'I miss this place when I'm working,' Angela whispered, staring up at the roof of the canopy.

'So do I.'

'I miss you more.'

'But at least I come and visit,' he replied with a smile.

'That you do.' A laugh burbled from her lips and she rolled to her side to face him. His hands were behind his head, his features relaxed and calm.

'I miss this place because I miss doing this, with you. When I'm working all I want is for the lunch break to start so I can drag you in here.'

'Wow, Jack. You sound like even more of a perv than you actually are!'

He smiled, and pressed his lips against hers, pushing her back onto the bed. 'Who says I'm not that much of a perv?'

'I do. You don't stare at every woman, just the ones with great boobs.'

'You have great boobs,' he laughed, and kissed her again.

Her only reply was to kiss him back.

* * *

Sometimes Jack worried. He worried about not being enough, not being able to keep Angela happy all the time. He worried that they'd never find her titan of a husband, and they'd be stuck at this impasse forever. He worried that she'd change her mind, and there's be no impasse, just nothing at all.

His bathroom mirror had been cleaned that morning, but his face still seemed cloudy to him, not quite the way it should. He ran a hand along his cheek, trying to imagine what she saw in him. She was too beautiful, and to amazing, and he was just the short bug guy.

'What are you doing, Jack?' she called from the bedroom, and he turned around, stepping out to face her.

'Just checking how the cleaner's doing. I think I'll have to get her to redo the mirror.'

'It looked fine to me.' Her eyebrows creased in confusion, but he slid into the bed beside her and she smiled as he kissed just below her ear gently.

Sometimes Angela worried about Jack.

* * *

**I'm so, so, sorry that this has taken so long to come up. I had trouble writing when I didn't have any new Bones episodes to keep me interested. But now the new season has started I will definitely be updating a whole lot more often! Enjoy!**


	17. Death In The Saddle

**Chapter Seventeen: Death In The Saddle**

'_Angela is going to be hypnotized,' Jack announces to the group as he climbs the stairs to the forensics platform. _

'_Why?' Dr Brennan asks._

'_She's going deep into her subconscious to remember her husband's name. So we can find him, divorce him, get married ourselves and live happily for all eternity.'_

_Brennan gives him a grimace in consolation. 'You won't live for eternity.'_

_It is with this comment that Booth enters the platform, case file in hand._

'_I thought you had a name,' Cam asks Hodgins._

'_A name for what?' Booth questions._

'_Angela's husband.'_

'_Berimbau,' Jack confirms. 'But our private investigator says it's a nickname.'_

_Booth nods. 'Well you can't get much off a nickname.'_

'_Berimbau is a little flute,' Brennan explains. 'Brazilian.'_

_Jack sends Cam a grin. _

'_What?' Brennan asks. _

'_A little flute?'_

_Hodgins raises his head to the ceiling, not trying to contain his smile. 'I'm suddenly filled with a sense of well-being.'_

_

* * *

_

'_Hey,' Angela says as she slips into the autopsy room. Her point of call is Cam. 'Have you seen Brennan?'_

'_You just missed her. Booth tracked down the victim's last credit card purchase to a country inn in Virginia. Why? Do you need her?'_

'_Well,' she replies. 'I was sort of hoping that she needed me.'_

'_Well, I admire your work ethic, but she didn't say anything to me.'_

'_What about you? You need anything?'_

_Cam smiles. 'I'm weighing human organs. Not really your thing.'_

'_Right. Okay.'_

'_Are you passing the time until you're hypnotized?'_

_Angela's jaw drops in surprise. 'Did Hodgins tell everybody?'_

'_Oh, he's excited. We all are. Delving into the subconscious to find the name of the mystery husband? Very romantic.'_

'_Well it won't be so romantic when I divorce him,' she replies with a growl._

'_I mean, romantic for you and Hodgins when you finally get married... Are you nervous?'_

'_No,' Ange replies. 'No, I'm annoyed. I know about this hypnotism thing. I was a magician's assistant at a little gypsy carnival in Brazil.'_

'_Now that's an opening line.'_

'_Oh, Mysterio was really cute, and I was younger then, and... the whole being sawed in half thing was actually kinda hot.'_

_Cam raises her eyebrows. 'We were talking about hypnotism.'_

'_Right. Well, this guy could rub an alligator's stomach so I could stick my head inside it's mouth. But every time he hypnotized people? It was always a scam.'_

'_Angela, therapeutic hypnosis is a proven technique. Electo-encephalography shows an increase in activity in the cerebral cortex, which opens the subconscious.'_

'_Really?'_

'_Yeah! It alters the alpha and theta waves. Read the Stanford University study. It's not a party trick.'_

'_You read that?'_

_Cam nods. 'And I've been hypnotized myself.'_

'_Wow. Why?'_

'_Well, I was in Vegas,' she explains. 'I got called up on stage, and apparently, I clucked like a chicken in front of three thousand people. But I have absolutely no memory of it.'_

'_Was this little episode in the Stanford study?'_

'_No, but it should have been. For the next three days, every time someone said 'coffee', I'd cluck. Awkward!'_

'_Okay, why I am not feeling better about this?'_

'_Trust me, it's not crazier than you drinking kava and marrying a giant in Fiji. And Hodgins seems to be pretty cool with that, so... if he wants you to try hypnosis, I'd say... get drowsy.'_

_

* * *

_

'_What's going on?' Jack asks, walking into Angela's office, holding cantaloupes in his hand. _

'_You first,' she says._

'_Cantaloupes,' he says, holding them up. 'Zack and I need them for an experiment.'_

'_Of course you do. I talked to Dr Jasper, that hypnotist.'_

'_Yeah?'_

'_She asked me to bring in photos. But all I could find are these.' She shows him a painting and the photograph she had been given by their private investigator._

'_Yeah, I'm not sure those'll be any help.'_

'_Which is why I'm looking for the wedding photo.'_

_Jack raises his eyebrows. 'You were married on the beach at dawn in the middle of nowhere.'_

'_Well, when I got off the phone with Dr Jasper, I remembered that somebody snapped a polaroid of me right after I said "I do". And I stuck it in a book as a bookmark, but I can't find it.' She puts down the book she is holding and turns to face Jack. 'You know, I really hate gong through the story of marrying a guy. I don't even know his name. People are looking at me like I'm nuts.'_

'_You are,' Jack replies with a grin._

'_Thanks a lot.'_

'_Come on, Angie. Embrace the irony. It's what makes you you. You married him, then you're gonna marry me. None of it makes any sense.' He gives her a smile tossing a cantaloupe absently. She can't help but notice that he holds them against his chest rather suggestively._

'_I'm supposed to take advice from a guy who's walking around with honeydew melons?'_

'_Cantaloupes. It's a common mistake,' he says as he backs out of the room. 'And hey, you need to relax. Do you want me there when you go under? I can hold your hand or something...'_

'_I'm not going under,' she says, irritation slipping into her tone. 'I'm being hypnotized.'_

'_Okay,' he says slowly, holding out the melons as he backs out of the room with a grin. 'This is me, walking away with my melons so you can relax. I love you. Psycho.'_

_

* * *

_

Angela didn't know what to think. She loved Jack, with all her heart, but she didn't want to find Berimbau. Not really. She didn't want to have to bring up all those memories, that were much better buried. It never happened like that anyway.

With a sigh, she grabbed the mouse of her computer and attacked a file on the desktop, moving it haphazardly around the screen. Her eyes followed the file as it darted, but her mind was elsewhere. Somewhere impossible to find.

* * *

_Angela's office is quiet, and her eyes are closed against the world. Her breathing is deep and even._

'_Is somebody there?' she asks, as she hears a noise. Her eyes stay adamantly shut. 'Hodgins?'_

'_Why don't you just open your eyes?' This voice is Brennan's. _

'_Ah, sweetie. It'll break the spell.'_

'_What spell? Are you still hypnotised?'_

_Angela gives a disappointed smile and open her eyes. 'No, it never took.'_

'_Why?'_

'_Cause that doctor said that I wasn't relaxed enough. I mean, can you believe that?' She runs a hand through her hair, smoothing it down. 'I mean, how would she know if I'm relaxed or not?'_

'_You're twisting your bracelet, your voice is half an octave higher than usual, and you smell like nervous sweats.'_

'_Oh don't say that!' she says, letting go of her bracelet. 'Really? I'm going back there are six. She says that if my pulse rate is still above sixty, that she's gonna push me off 'til next week.'_

_Brennan nods, but Angela does not feel at all soothed. 'Rapid pulse rate, high blood pressure. They're indicators of emotional distress.'_

'_What? You think I don't want to be hypnotized?'_

'_I simply made a factual observation.'_

_Ange stands up, annoyed. 'You think I'm afraid of disturbing old memories! You think that somehow I- I like this idea of Berimbau as some sort of untouchable fantasy figure. Hmm? That somehow finding his real name will just bring him down to Earth and make this whole... meshugaas banal and uninteresting!'_

'_I don't know what "meshugaas" means. I'm not sure I know what any of that meant.' Bren tilts her head to the side, confusing evident on her face. 'Why do I feel like I need to apologize for something?'_

'_I'll be ready next time. Okay? You'll see.' Angela runs a hand through her hair again and twists her bracelet absently. 'Could you excuse me, sweetie?'_

_Brennan stands up, and walks towards the door, unsure what she is supposed to do._

'_Hey, shut that door behind you!' _

_And with an irritated glance, Brennan is gone, and Angela is still nervous._

_

* * *

_

'_How am I doing?' Angela asks as she sits opposite the hypnotherapist, back in the confines of her office. 'Because the pressure of having to have a low pulse could be driving my pulse up, and I in no way want to be penalized for that.'_

'_Fifty-eight beats per minute. Very nice, Angela.'_

_She smiles, letting a deep breath escape. 'I did some deep breathing. You're not going to make me cluck like a chicken, are you? Sorry. Bombs away!' Her nerves are skittish as she leans back against the couch._

'_Let's begin, Angela? Close your eyes. Take a deep, cleansing breath in... And out.' Angela complies with almost too much thought. 'Very good. Take in another breath... And out. Focus on your arms. They're very heavy. Imagine them sinking into your chair.'_

_The doctor's voice is barely an echo, a breeze in the wind, and Angela can feel herself calming down, sinking into the soft voice._

'_Very good. We're ready now, to begin the journey. If you can here me, Angela, nod your head.' What else could she do but nod? How could she disobey the voice? 'Very good. You're on the island of Vatuolo in Fiji, in the village of Nakavala.'_

_Confusion fills her mind. The voice is wrong. How can the voice be wrong? 'Uh, I'm pretty sure I'm on the Rialto Bridge in Venice.'_

'_No,' the voice says more forcefully this time. 'You're on the beach. In Fiji. In front of you is a red door._

'_No, there's not.'_

'_I need for you not to fight me, Angela. Do you see the door?'_

'_I see the door.'_

'_When you pull the door open, your husband will be standing in front of you. When you see him, you will greet him by his proper name.'_

'_I'm going to pull it open.'_

'_Pull the knob.'_

_She opens the door, cautiously, and her caution was deserved. Behind the door is a wasp, huge and menacing, and it's coming right at her. She let's out a scream, and she's still screaming as the voice talks again._

'_Angela, I'm going to count to three, and when I reach three you're going to open up your eyes, you're going to feel relaxed, and refreshed. You're going to remember everything but you're not going to be scared. One... Two... Three.'_

_Her eyes blink open, and she's back in her office again, opposite the doctor. 'Did it work?'_

'_Angela, you need to tell me your husband's name.'_

_A sigh escapes her lips. 'I opened the door and I saw a wasp.'_

'_A white Anglo-Saxon protestant?'_

'_No, a big flying, stinging insect.'_

'_Buzzing around your husband's head?'_

'_NO! It- no, it was the size of a human being! And it was a very large human being.'_

'_I see,' the doctor says. 'What does that mean to you?'_

'_Nothing.'_

'_It must.'_

'_I'm sorry. I have no idea.'_

'_Well, you're not what I would call a... compliant personality.'_

_Angela's eyebrows raise and she stands up, posture defensive. 'This is my fault?'_

'_Well, perhaps another session will... explore this wasp.'_

_With a glare to the doctor, she grabs her purse from the table and storms out of the room._

'_Yeah, and next time I'll open the door to what? A giant snake? I don't think so, Doc.'_

_And she leaves without a backward glance._

_

* * *

_

The room was filled with junk. She'd been tossing things out of drawers and her wardrobe with a reckless anger. She was searching for something, goodness knows what. But it was at the back of her mind, and she knew that if she saw it, she could find it. It was also a good way to release her anger at the hypnotherapist who had sent her up the wall.

'Hell!' she screamed, grabbing another pile of out-of-fashion sweaters and throwing them at the wall. She was at the bottom of the wardrobe, and all that was left was a book. It was old and faded, with dog-eared pages, and she grabbed it roughly. She flipped it over to see the cover, and jumped when she saw a wasp. A wasp. She wished she would never have to see another wasp in her life.

With another groan, she threw the book at the wall, and leaned back against the bed. Sitting beneath the now open book, against the wall, was a piece of photographic paper, a polaroid.

Angela slid across the floor on her knees and slid the photo out from under the book. It was of her, and a large, dark skinned man, standing on a beach, arm in arm. It stirred memories in her mind, and she quickly flipped the polaroid over. On the back was scrawled: _Angie & Grayson._

Grayson.

* * *

_She walks across the room, towards Jack's desk, but there's something on her mind, filling her conscious._

'_Hey,' she says, and he looks up to see her._

'_So,' he replies. 'I- uh- I looked up 'wasp' in dream theory.'_

'_I love dream theory.'_

'_I know you do. And guess what I found? A wasp signifies anger and envy.' He gives her a sarcastic smile. 'These are good. Any chance it was a bee?'_

'_No, Jack.' She passes him a book, the thing that was on her mind as she crossed the lab. It is The Furies, by Keith Roberts. The cover depicts a large wasp, the source of Angela's nightmare. _

'_A book about nuclear radiation creating a giant wasp,' Jack comments._

'_I was reading it in Fiji. I mean, between all the snorkeling and the...'_

'_Sight seeing?'_

'_Let's go with that.' _

_He gives her half a smile before taking the book in his hands. 'What's it mean?'_

'_Look inside.'_

_Jack opens the book, and within is a photo, a basic polaroid of Angela and her 'husband', a tall, dark-skinned man._

'_That's Birembau!'_

'_Mm-hmm.'_

'_Well, his face is turned, so there's still not much to go on...' Jack comments. 'God, the guy is a giant.'_

'_Flip the picture.'_

_He does so, and on the back is a loose scrawl. _Angie and Grayson.

'_Angie and Grayson? His name was Grayson!'_

'_Grayson Barasa. Once I say his first name, the rest of it just flows out.' She gives him a smile. 'Grayson Barasa.'_

'_You did it, Angie! You really do want to find him!'_

'_I really, really do,' she replies with a nod._

'_To divorce him.'_

'_I want a divorce. And then I want a wedding.' _

_With a smile, she leans down to kiss him, and even though he returns her passion with fervor, there is still a moment of doubt in his mind, and he looks at the photo over her shoulder, at the huge man, and the genuine smile on her face as she stands with her arms wrapped around him._

_

* * *

_

Jack sat on the floor beside Angela as she shoved pile after pile of junk back into the wardrobe.

'How many clothes do you have?' he laughed.

'Not that many,' Angela replied, shamefully. 'I just collect them.'

He gave her a smile, holding up a pair of bright pink rollerblades. 'I can see that? When did you get these? When you were twelve?'

'About that, yeah.'

He tossed them over his shoulder and they landed with a thunk on the other side of the room. 'And this? What's this?' With one hand he pulled a box out of the bottom of the wardrobe.

'Oh my God,' Angela said, and pulled it from his grasp.

'What?'

'You can't see this.'

'Why not?'

She stood up, running a hand through her hair, and sat down upon the bed, holding the box protectively in her lap.

'Come on, Ange,' Jack pressed. 'Why can't I see it?'

'B-because you can't.'

He paused, pursing his lips and looking down at her. With a sigh, he sat at her side. 'What's going on?'

'Nothing's going on. Just... you can't look inside this box.'

'Angie,' he said with a smile. 'I'm a guy. You can't just tell me not to look in the box. I'm gonna look in the box.'

She raises her eyes to face him, furrowing her eyebrows. 'Please, Jack. I can't show you this stuff. I didn't even know it was still in there.'

'Where did you think it was?'

'I didn't know. I thought I'd lost it somewhere.'

'So it doesn't mean anything and I can-'

'No!' She ripped the box from his prying hands and held it even tighter to her chest.

'Angela,' he said, laying a hand gently on her shoulder. 'It's okay. Calm down. I won't look. I don't mind. If you don't want me to see, I won't see.'

'Thank you,' she said slowly, with a shaking sigh. He nodded and stood up, walking to the door. At the threshold of the room, he stopped to watch her and with her back to him, she slowly lifted the lid of the box. Over her shoulder he could see a white rose, dried and perfectly preserved, and a photo of an abstract painting that he'd seen in her drying cupboard before.

Jack bit his lip, watching, and turned with a sad smile out towards the kitchen. Sometimes it hurt that no matter how much he loved her and shared everything with her, there were parts of her life that she never shared.

* * *

**Wow, this has taken so long to get up. This chapter, by the way, is the chapter that has been in the works forever. This was the one that was still half written when I put up The Witch In The Wardrobe and The Bones On The Blue Line. And finally, it is done. It just wouldn't flow and it peeved me off, but finally, something clicked and it worked! Yay! And so I hope you like it. I know there's a whole lot more scenes from the show than usual, but I hope you liked my additions anyway. **

**Thanks so much for reading this and please feel free to review if you like it :D**

**xxxx Wynnie**


	18. The Bones On The Blue Line

**Chapter 41: The Bones On The Blue Line**

'_Wait until you get to page 187,' Daisy assures Jack as they wade through the flooded subway tunnels, searching for rat excrement. 'It is H.O.T! She describes this move that Agent Andy makes. Lance and I tried it a few times, and oh my god. The neighbors complained.'_

_Jack sighs, places Daisy's mind back on track, but as is common with men, his interest was piqued.

* * *

_

_He is sitting at his desk, and even though he is technically only on page three of Dr Brennan's book, he picks it up and flicks closer to the back._

'_Page 187,' he mumbles to himself as he flicks. He locates the page, leans back to read and sits up again in shock. 'Oh my God.'_

_He grabs the book, sprints into the corridor, almost crashing into Cam. 'Hodgins,' she says, but he brushes her away._

'_One moment please. Personal privilege, point of order.'_

_He enters Angela's room at a rush, and as she tries to ask him about his day scooping rat poop, he holds up the book, requesting silence. 'Page 187. Mind reading it out loud?'_

'_Page 187?' she asks, and brightens when she realises what he's asking. 'I am not reading the sparky bits to you. You can get somebody else to do that, sicko.'_

'_Okay, fine,' he says. 'Read it to yourself then.' He watches as she scans the page, and as her jaw drops. 'That's that thing I do. Nobody else does that thing. It's my thing... that I do. Right. It's not a well-known thing. It's... you know. My thing. That I do.'_

'_Right,' Angela says with a smile. 'I remember. I was there.'_

'_You told Brennan about that thing I do.'_

'_It's a very good thing.'_

'_It's my thing! That I do! Did you tell her it was my thing?'_

'_You mean, did I give you credit?'_

'_Yes, did you?'_

'_No.'_

_He sighs with relief. 'Good, 'cause I don't need her looking at me thinking about... that thing I do.'_

'_Well that's good then.'_

_He smiles, coy and sly. 'But now that thing I do is in print and every guy that reads that book is gonna give it a shot.' He gives an exaggerated sigh and backs out of the room, taking the book with him. 'Oh well. You know I got other things I do.' He grins. 'My advice: Only sleep with guys that can't read. 'Cause otherwise, you'll never be rid of me.'

* * *

_

Angela stared at herself in the mirror. The curls of her dark hair fell across her bare shoulders, tousled and unkempt from the day's work and the night's play.

Wendell was still in the bedroom as she stood there in the bathroom. He was tense at her own agitation, and she knew beyond a doubt that he was worried about her. But what could she do? She was worried, too.

'Ange?' his voice called through the open doorway. In the mirror she could see him splayed on the bed, the sheet draped unceremoniously over his chiseled frame.

'Yeah?'

'Are you okay?' How could she answer that? Physically, she was fine, but her mind was raving.

'Yeah, I'm fine,' she replied instead, but she didn't move from her spot in front of the mirror. She was thinking about Hodgins and what he'd said. _Page 187. My thing. You'll never be rid of me._

Wendell hadn't done that thing - in fact he never had - but it had Angela on edge. He'd read the book, live everyone else in the lab, but he had his own moves, and was never dissuaded from them, especially not by Angela. But still. There was still that lingering question in the back of her mind and the memory of _that thing _creeping across her skin.

With a quick gesture, she grabbed the hairbrush from its place on the dresser and ran it through her tangled hair. She could feel it snag, but she persisted: smoothing out the knots. Through the corner of her eye, she watched the man in her bedroom.

Wendell wrapped the sheet around his frame, pulling it off the bed and along with him as he approached the bathroom. He leaned casually against the door frame, unaware of the plagues that filled her mind.

'Come on, Ange,' he said gently, leaning towards her to rub her shoulders. 'I don't care about your hair. Come back to bed.'

She shook her head without thought and continued brushing her hair. Her eyes were locked on the mirror, looking, but no longer seeing, as Wendell ran his hands down her back, raising goosebumps. With a sigh, he pried the brush from her grasp and replaced it on the dresser, spinning her around.

'Come back to bed,' he said again.

She gave a small smile and even though her skin was still alive with the memory of Jack's fingers on her skin, she let Wendell lead her back to the bed. She felt like such a liar.

* * *

Jack couldn't sleep. He hadn't slept well for a long time, but a little sleep was a lot different to no sleep. His eyes kept being drawn to Brennan's book on the bedside table and the bookmark he'd placed in page 187. He took it down and read it again.

But this is _my thing, _he told himself again, and for all the bravado he'd shown earlier that day, he was feeling crushed.

_And had she told Brennan after we broke up? The book is only new and she said she only came in at the end. That would mean we'd broken up, right?_

He finished the passage of the book and replaced it on the table. He'd been doing this all night, reading that scene, over and over and over again.

He slipped out of bed, flipping the overhead light on and making his way down to the kitchen. From the liquor cabinet beside the fridge he pulled a bottle of whisky and poured himself a shot before gulping it down and refilling, a slightly larger one this time. His throat was burning, but the alcohol was soothing his mind and the words of the book were slipping away with ease.

Wrapping one hand around the glass of whisky and the other around the bottle, he paced out into the living room and collapsed on the lounge. He switched on the TV and after a few more swigs, fell into a light trance. He dreamed of Angela, of everything he'd let slip by him, and now that she was with Wendell, everything he wished he could have.

* * *

**Okay. So here's another one. I knew you were wanting it, and I'm kind of addicted to Bones right now. I wrote this when I was on holidays, but I didn't have computer access. Also, a heads up, the next chapter will be a LOT into the future. In fact, Season 6. Just because I just watched the episode, and I'm psyched to write it :) Hope you really enjoyed this chapter. Feel free to review! I love your feedback!**

**Thanks so much everyone!**

**xx Wynnie**


	19. The Witch In The Wardrobe

**Okay, so I know you're probably thinking 'What the? This isn't supposed to be next!' and I know. It shouldn't be. But when this episode was released, I had to write it straight away and it's been sitting on my computer for months. And now I've decided I'm just going to write this all out of order, because if I don't, we'll never get this finished. (Read: the next chapter is not my favourite episode.) So instead, I'm just going to write it all out of order, and in the end, it will all make sense, and all be in order. But for now, this will be here. :D Enjoy!

* * *

**

**Chapter 44: The Witch In The Wardrobe**

'_Y'know what I think?' Angela asks, turning to him. His hand is on the steering wheel of the car, guiding them along the road. 'I think that Cam sent us both to the crime scene because of the tension between us.'_

'_Tension?' His voice sounds apprehensive, but even she can tell that underneath the hard facade, part of him is breaking, if only just a little bit. Maybe it had always been breaking, and this moment was only another of many. But it didn't matter. She couldn't dwell on it. 'There's no tension between us.'_

'_Yeah, at first I thought it was because I was suddenly... y'know... available again...,' she pauses, looking at him for a moment, trying to analyze his reaction. 'And... then I thought maybe it was because you think I treated Wendell badly.'_

'_Hang on,' he argues. 'Wendell said that it was totally mutual. He said that you were wonderful.'_

_She laughs. 'Yeah, I'm not sure how I feel about you two discussing me.'_

'_Not _discussing _you. Complimenting you.'_

_Her eyebrows raise, and he shrugs his shoulders._

'_Okay, fine. No more compliments. You don't look good today. Your smile is ordinary at best, and it is not cool that we finally get to work together again in the field.'_

'_Okay,' she says, letting a small smile spread across her lips. 'That's fine. I can live with that.' The grin still lingers on her lips as she reaches for the camera at her feet and starts flipping through the photos. 'You know,' she says, stopping on a photograph of a chimney. 'This symbol is very creepy on this chimney.'_

'_Let me see.' He leans over to glance at the image on the camera's screen. _

'_See?'_

'_Oh, yeah. Could be a lot of things.' His gaze is focused on the image, trying to determine what the symbol is, and the car swerves, sliding into the wrong lane. 'Whoa!' he says. He grips the wheel, desperately trying to get back into his lane. A beeping sound comes from the car. 'What is that?' he asks._

'_Oh,' Angela replies. 'The Prius helps you stay in your lane. That's kinda cool.'_

'_Yeah, that is cool. Let's do that again.' He swings the car back into the other lane and the car starts beeping again. Behind the sound of the beeping is another sound. The sound of a police siren._

'_Oh that is so not cool.' Hodgins grips the steering wheel, face contorted with annoyance. _

'_Hey, I didn't see him there. That's pretty sneaky.' She gives him a grin. 'Pull over. I'll put on the charm.'_

_Jack pulls the car to the side, glancing out his rearview mirror. 'It's Sheriff Abrahms, from the crime scene.'_

'_Oh.'_

'_Oh. Perfect.'_

'_Excuse me, sir,' the sheriff says, coming up to the window. Hodgins rolls it down. 'I observed you crossing the double yellow, how much have you had to drink today?' The man runs his words into one sentence, his body poised for an answer._

'_Sheriff Abrahms,' Hodgins counters. 'It's us. Hodgins and Angela. We just left the crime scene. Heading up north to drop off our stuff at the lab.'_

'_I know, Doctor Hodgins. I'm just following the law. Have you had anything to drink today?'_

'_Hi, Sheriff,' Angela grins, leaning over Jack to see him properly through the window. 'Listen, um, I really do like a man in uniform who loves his job. So, uh, neither one of us has had anything to drink, no.'_

'_Hello, Miss Montenegro, but I'm afraid I need the driver to respond.'_

'_Yeah, yeah,' Hodgins says grudgingly. 'I've had several martinis an absence and a bottle of mead.'_

'_License and registration, please,' the sheriff orders._

'_He was kidding! He was just being an idiot!'_

'_You too, please.'

* * *

_

'_We live in a fascist state,' he complains, leaning back against the bars of the cell. _

'_If you know that, then why did you taunt the guy with the gun?'_

'_You expect me to just roll over?' he asks, surprised._

'_No. I'm praying that you do though. Okay, here he comes. Listen, Hodgins, be nice, or I will cause you great pain._

_They approach the bars of the cell. 'So... uh... have we cleared this up, officer?'_

'_Not quite,' the Sheriff says. 'The problem is Miss Montenegro here is a criminal. I found an outstanding bench warrant on you, young lady.'_

'_What?' Hodgins demands, turning to Angela._

'_For what?' she asks._

'_For defying the notice to appear on a speeding charge.'_

'_Oh... yeah... that... well, I didn't speed.'_

'_But you did defy the bench warrant, which is way worse than speeding, and Doctor Hodgins, you have a warrant for escaping police custody during a freedom of information protest eight years ago.'_

'_People have a right to now,' he replies, voice slightly downcast._

'_But not to run away.'_

'_Okay,' Angela says. 'Alright, listen... I will appear and Hodgins will surrender as soon as we get back, kay? Word of honor.'_

'_It's not up to me. I can't let you go until the judge rules on your warrants.'_

'_Well, when will that be?'_

'_Whenever one shows up. In the mean time, I suggest you two make the best of things. The best you can.'_

'_Hey!' Hodgins argues. 'Hey, no! Hey!' _

_The sheriff leaves and he turns to Angela. 'Speeding?'_

'_Don't you dare.'

* * *

_

'_This is the hardest bench I've ever sat on in my life.'_

'_Sat on?' Jack asks. 'Slept on.'_

'_My shoulders are killing me.'_

'_Tell me about it. C'mere.' He beckons to her. _

'_Why?'_

'_I'll give you a little rub. Y'know, work out the kinks.'_

_She raises her eyebrows as if to say "really"._

'_Are you really that mad at me that you don't want a little massage?'_

'_Okay,' she grumbles. 'But only 'cause I hurt.'_

_She steps across the cell to his bench, sitting down. He leans over her back, pressing his palms into her shoulders and back._

'_Ohhh...' she moans. 'Yeah... ohhh ohh. Yes! Yes! Down, down! Little lower. Lower. Ohhh. Yeah, yeah... ohhh. Thank you God.'_

'_God is a little formal. Hodgins is fine.'

* * *

_

_The bars of the cell are cold behind their backs as they lean against them. A cup is sitting on the other side of the cell, inviting the penny in Angela's hand to land inside it. The penny flies across the room, just missing._

'_Hmm, close,' Hodgins grins. 'But now I'm up eighteen cents.'_

'_For now.' The penny flies through the air again, connecting with its mark. 'Yes!'_

'_Nice!'_

'_Only seventeen.' She hands the penny to him and he pauses, watching her._

'_Do you realize how long it's been since we've spent this much time together? Outside the lab, I mean.'_

'_Yeah, I know. God, I keep thinking about that- that crappy cabin that we stayed in in the mountains. Do you remember that?'_

_He nods, reminiscing on the memory. _

'_It was thirty degrees,' she continues, mimicking the thoughts that are flying through his head. 'There's no heat...'_

'_Yeah. Oh, man, this jail is way better than that cabin.'_

'_It was a good weekend thought.'_

'_Mhm. Keeping warm.' A small smile crosses his lips at the thought of it._

'_Yeah...'

* * *

_

_The video conference call from the Jeffersonian switches off, and Jack holds up the coin. 'Another round?'_

'_Really?' Angela asks. 'You sure? You're down thirty-one cents.'_

_He nods, and they return to their spots against the wall. Angela throws the penny and it falls with a plop into the cup._

'_Yes! Thirty-two!' She stands up, walking across the room to retrieve the penny from the cup. When she straightens, he is standing, watching her. Her face shadows with thought; regret, confusion and an undeniable attraction surfacing at the forefront of her mind. _

_A small smile crosses his face. 'What?'_

'_Do you ever wonder what happened to us?' she asks. The smile disappears and his face turns solemn. 'On the day we broke up?'_

'_Yeah,' he replies finally. 'Every day. I run through that conversation word for word.'_

'_Me too.'_

_He pauses for a moment, considering what to say. Finally, he speaks. 'You said, "All you had to do was trust me."'_

'_And you said "Hey, you're the one who's leaving."'_

'_And then you said "And you're the one who isn't stopping me."'_

'_And I left.'_

'_Yeah.'_

'_Well,' she says with a small, shy grin, 'I wish I hadn't.'_

'_The biggest regret of my life is I didn't stop you.'_

'_Yeah,' she asks. 'What was up with that?'_

'_I-I,' he stutters, trying to explain himself. 'I panicked. I-I-I lost faith that I could sustain that kind of happiness.'_

'_Hm, you talked to Sweets?'_

'_The kid's got the goods.' _

_She smiles at him, a smile tinged with sadness, and he returns it._

'_It was like we were both playing chicken. And then we both swerved.' _

_His eyes are bright, hopeful. He has been waiting for this moment for a long time. 'Yeah, what we should have done was crashed right into each other.'_

'_At the speed of light.'_

_And her eyes are open, warm, filled with everything that he used to see when he looked at her, and he can't help but kiss her, holding her face in his hands and twisting his fingers into the curls of her hair.

* * *

_

'What now, Ange?' he asked her. Their hands were linked, and his thumb trailed along her hand. He felt like kissing her again, if only to bring back to the surface images of what they had just done as the judge and the Sheriff had left. But they spurred into his mind of their own accord, and he let go of her hand, instead slipping his arm around her back.

'What do you mean?'

'Well, are we back together? Are we just going to pretend this didn't happen?'

'Do you want to pretend this didn't happen?'

'No!'

She smiled, leaning into his side, and she could feel the heat as their skin touched. 'Then how 'bout we start off again where we left off?'

'What does _that _mean?'

She raised an eyebrow, looking at him. 'Do I have to be the one to do this again?'

Jack ran a hand through his hair. 'I am really, really confused. But I want to have what we had. I want us to spend every day together, and every night together, and some lunch breaks too. I want to be head over heels in love with you and I want you to be head over heels in love with me, too.'

'I don't want us to go back to the way we were.'

'What? Then what was that? Did what we just did - in a _jail cell, _no less - mean nothing to you?' He dropped her hand suddenly, taking a step backwards. He ran a hand through his hair again, anxiously. 'I am _totally _confused.'

'Jack,' she almost laughed, taking his hand again and pulling him towards her. 'I want you to marry me. Right here, right now.'

He paused a moment, considering. Was she really saying this, after all the time they'd spent apart? Could a single day really bring them together again? 'I don't think that's legal,' he finally said after a pause.

'It is if we wait for the judge to get back and he does it.'

Jack raised his eyebrows, nodding. 'Okay. You're insane, you know that right?'

'Yes, I distinctly recall you telling me that once before.' She grinned, and he pulled her head towards him so he could kiss her lips again. And in that kiss he told her everything he had been holding back since they had broken up, every word that he had wished he could say, every promise he had wished he could make.

* * *

'_Dearly beloved. We are gathered here today to join in holy matrimony Angela Pearly-Gates Montenegro and Jack Stanley Hodgins the Fourth.' The judges voice is even and calm as he speaks._

'_Uh, there's a... one small problem.' Angela's voice is the interruption, and Jack lets out a small sigh, squeezing her hands. _

'_Please don't change your mind.'_

'_Oh, no!' she argues. 'That's not it. It's just... um... that's not my real name.'_

'_How bad could it be?' the judge asks._

'_Yeah, did you get mine? It's _Stanley.'

'_Yeah, uh, yeah,' Angela mumbles. 'Well, see my dad, well he's sort of unique and, well he's texan, and uh, other things, so do you mind if I just- if I just whisper it to you?' _

'_That'll work,' the judge agrees._

'_Thank you,' Jack breathes. _

_Angela lets go of his hand, walking across to the judge and bending slightly to whisper in his ear. His face changes from unconcern, to surprise, and then finally to acceptance._

'_We're here to wed these to people,' he finally says, unsure what else to say. 'Vows?'_

'_Vows...' Jack says. 'Um... Angela... or whatever your name is...' His mind calms as he looks at her, face radiating pure joy. And he repeats the words he said to her not that long ago, when situations were different, but he loved her no less. 'I'm your guy.'_

_She smiles. 'Stanley,' she says. 'We're gonna live together, and we're gonna love together, and we're gonna have so much fun, and a little pain, and we're just gonna live a life that will make other people die with jealousy, wishing they were us.'_

_He smiles, squeezing her hands again. _

'_You have rings?' the judge asks. _

'_Yes, yeah.' From his back pocket, Jack withdraws a gold wedding band._

'_Where did you get that?'_

'_I've kept this in my wallet since our first wedding.' A questioning look from the Sheriff makes him turn. 'No, we didn't go through with it.' He turns back to Angela, and the ring that is now in her hands. 'Where did you get _that?'

'_Hm,' she says, a grin playing across her face. 'I'll tell you later.'_

'_Oh,' he replies and recognition dawns. 'Ohhhhh.'_

'_Yeah.'_

'_You may exchange the rings,' the judge says. Jack slides the ring onto Angela's finger, and it fits snugly. It was supposed to. It was made for her. The ring she slides onto his finger - onto his pinky - fits less perfectly, but she is keeping the reason to herself for now._

'_By the power vested in me by the state of Maryland I pronounce you husband and wife...' The judge pauses for a moment to take a breath and as his eyes flick to Jack and Angela, he finds their lips already connected. 'You may...' But he does not continue, for there is no need.

* * *

_

He drove her to her apartment, careful not to swerve or speed on the road. Her head was resting against the window as he drove, and her eyes fluttered closed. Her left hand rested on his thigh.

Slowly, he rested his hand on hers, running his thumb over her smooth porcelain skin.

'Jack?' she whispered. He thought she had been asleep.

'Yeah?'

'We didn't do this too fast did we?'

He looked toward her, eyes flicking back to the road every few seconds to keep the car straight. 'Did you really just ask that? You? Angie, Queen of all things spontaneous and beautiful?'

'I know, right?' She let out a short laugh, leaning her head back against the glass again. 'I just- I mean- I don't normally think about these kind of things, but I don't usually get married either.'

'You nearly married me before.'

'Yeah, and I was a mess.' She ran a hand through her dark hair, letting out a small sigh.

'Tell me,' he murmured softly.

She sighed again before speaking. 'Well, I was- I was freaking out really bad. Brennan kept trying to be supportive but she was just making it worse with all her love-is-just-a-chemical-reaction talk. For a minute there, I wasn't sure if I could go through with it.'

She paused, and he took the opportunity to ask, 'What made you change your mind?'

She smiled. 'You.'

'Me?'

'Yeah. I saw you standing up there at the altar, and you'd seen me, and all I could see in your face was happiness.'

'And that calmed your nerves? Wow, I didn't realize my face had that kind of effect on you, Ange.' He laughed and brought her hand to his lips, kissing it softly.

'It wasn't just your face, Hodgins,' she laughed back at him. 'It was your happiness. I wanted to feel that. And I knew I could.' She moved in her seat so her head could rest on his shoulder. 'With you.'

'Now I feel like a hard-ass,' he laughed, squeezing her hand.

'Why?'

'I was never nervous about marrying you.'

'Not even today?'

'Nope. Not until you told the judge there was a problem, anyway.'

'And why then?' she asked. He could feel her cheek against his shoulder, moving in time with her words.

'Because I thought you were going to back out on me. I didn't want that to happen.'

He pulled into the underground parking of her apartment building, parking his silver Prius next to her minivan. He climbed out of the car and walked around the front to open her door for her.

They walked together up to her apartment, hand in hand. In the elevator, he slid his arm around her waist and she leant into him. Every place their bodies touched felt like fire to him, so much so that he was already regretting what he had to say next.

'Ange, I can't stay.'

'What?' Her head shot up from where it had been resting on his shoulder.

'I can't stay. I have to go back to my house. There's something I have to do.'

'Something that's more important than me?'

'I'm sorry, Ange. I wanna come back though. Really soon.'

'I might be asleep, Hodgins.'

'I know where you keep the spare key.'

She sighed, nodding. 'Fine. Fine. Do whatever you want. I'll be fine on my wedding night all alone.'

'I'll be back,' he murmured as the doors to the elevator opened. She stepped out into the corridor.

'You'd better be.'

And the doors closed, and the elevator left, Jack with it.

* * *

Her apartment felt bare without him there. A cold silence hung in the air but she couldn't bring herself to fill it with the harsh blare of the TV or the dulcet tones of the radio. Instead, she poured herself a cup of green tea that she usually kept for special occasions and settled down in her armchair, facing the window. And she sipped her tea and watched the stars, all the while thinking of him.

* * *

His car felt empty without her in the passenger seat, head resting against the window. He hadn't wanted to leave her. He had wanted to stay in her apartment, hold her through the night and never leave her side until work tomorrow.

But he needed to do this. The ends justified the means, so to speak. Two hours away from her would mean a whole night of perfection, and possibly the whole next day too.

He arrived at his house, not bothering to pull the car into the carport. Instead, he parked in the driveway and ran up the steps to the house. He paused at the garden to cut a rose, a white rose that grew in one other place in America. Then he continued on, desperate to complete his mission as soon as possible.

* * *

She had finished her tea and retired to her bed when she heard the turn of the spare key in the lock. Her breath caught in her throat and she glanced at the clock. Barely nine pm. It had been exactly an hour and a half since he had dropped her off, and she was in bed incredibly early.

'Ange?' she heard him whisper through the door to her bedroom. 'Are you awake?'

'Yeah,' she replied and climbed out of bed, pulling a shawl around her shoulders. She opened the door and stepped out, he bare feet against the cold of the floor making her shiver.

'You're beautiful,' he murmured, laying the bag in his arms down on the kitchen bench. He approached her, wrapped his arms around her slender frame and kissed her gently.

For a moment the world stopped, but just as quickly as it had stopped, it started up again. Because he had left her for an hour and half, alone, on their wedding night.

'Where did you go?' she asked.

'Home. I told you that.'

'Why?'

'I had to do something.'

She sighed. 'I need a better explanation than that, Jack.'

'Okay. Sit down,' he said, leading her over to her armchair. She sat down, crossing her legs beneath her.

'First,' he said softly. 'I called Cam. She wasn't happy that I interrupted her dinner, but she agreed that unless an urgent case came in tomorrow, it was a good idea for both of us to stay home and rest after our traumatizing ordeal.'

'Did she really say that?' Angela's voice was deadpan, and Jack could tell she was still at least a little bit mad at him.

'No, but I think she felt sorry for leaving us there.'

A small smile finally spread across her lips. 'What else?'

'I picked you a flower.'

'A flower?'

He reached across to the bench and handed her the rose. He heard the gasp escape her lips and he smiled.

'You didn't drive all the way to the botanical gardens to get this for me, did you?'

'No.'

'Then where did you get it?'

'From my front yard.'

'I thought it only grew in the botanical gardens.'

'I thought so too,' he smiled. 'Until I tried to plant it and it thrived.'

'You never told me about it.'

'Well, I planted it after you rejected my first proposal, and it was a way for me to feel like you hadn't stomped on my pride, because it hadn't died. I couldn't give up hope until it died. And then when you finally agreed to marry me, I was too happy to think about it. I even forgot to water it, but it still grew. And then we broke up, and I couldn't really tell you about it then.'

'But it never died.'

'No.'

'I'm glad it didn't.'

'Me, too.'

She watched the rose, spinning it between her fingers.

'I brought you something else, too. A couple of stuff actually.'

'Oh?' she raised her eyebrows and placed the rose on the corner table beside her.

'Yeah.' Jack reached back to the counter and passed her a plastic container.

She took it from him and opened the lid, laughing. 'What are you doing, Hodgins? Trying to send me on a trip down memory lane?'

He shrugged. 'I guess. But I was more thinking you'd be starving, seeing as we haven't eaten since lunch.'

She laughed, pulling the sushi roll out of the container and taking a bite. She chewed, swallowed, took another bite, and all the while he watched her.

'Where did you buy these?'

'I didn't. I made them.'

'Is that what took you so long?'

'No. That was the trip to the grocery store. Apparently more people shop at eight o'clock at night than I thought.'

'What else did you get?' He had said there was more than one thing he had brought for her, and the bag on the counter still had something in it. She stood up, letting the shawl drop to the ground and took a step towards the bench.

'Hey, no!' Jack protested, wrapping his arms around her waist and pulling her back on to his lap. 'That's for later, Ange.'

'Really?' she giggled. 'So what's for now?'

'Now, you finish that sushi, and I enjoy your company.'

'I really don't think that's the kind of fun we're supposed to be having tonight, Hodgie,' she laughed, leaning back into him and reaching up with a hand to place her palm on his cheek.

'Just eat it, Ange, or I'll make you.'

'That sounds like a good compromise.' She ran her hand down along his neck and turned her head to kiss him. He pushed her away with a grin.

'No, seriously, Ange. I want you to eat.'

Grumbling, she took the sushi and ate another bite. 'These are really good. Salmon, right?'

'Yeah,' Jack replied. He leaned his head on her shoulder, pressing his lips to her jaw.

'Hey,' she laughed. 'I thought I was supposed to be eating.'

'You are.'

'Well, you're being very distracting.'

'Sorry.' He pulled his lips away and withdrew his arms from around her waist, leaning back on them instead.

'I didn't say you had to stop,' she countered.

He smiled, but didn't replace his arms. 'Just eat the damn sushi, Ange, so we can get on to the next course.'

She smiled before placing the last bite of sushi in her mouth. 'You're a better sushi chef than I thought you would be, Jack.'

'It's not that hard,' he replied. 'I'll teach you one day.'

'Tomorrow?'

'Wow, you're really going for a fast-moving record there, aren't you, Ange?'

'Is that a bad thing?'

'Not at all.' He helped her to a standing position and made his way across the counter.

'Can I look now?'

He nodded and she delved into the bag, pulling out a bottle of vintage Merlot and a plastic tub filled with chocolate and fresh strawberries.

'What's this?' she asked.

He grinned in response. 'Some assembly required.'

* * *

Fifteen minutes later they were sitting on the floor opposite each other, a bowl of melted chocolate between them. Angela dipped a strawberry into the chocolate and held it out for Jack. He took it in his mouth, grinning. He attempted to take a bite, but it slipped from his lips and he caught it with a laugh.

'This isn't as successful as I predicted.'

'When is anything as successful as you predict?' she asked as he reached across to place another strawberry in her mouth.

'Hey! My predictions are nearly always accurate!'

'Yeah, name a time. I can name about a hundred where something went wrong.'

'Okay, then,' he said, laughing. 'Go.'

'Well, there was that time you hit me with a snap frozen turkey, and another time when you shot a cannon through the-'

'That was supposed to happen!'

'And what about the time you blew up Zack's-' She stopped suddenly at the look on his face. 'I'm sorry, Jack. I didn't mean to-'

'Don't worry about it, Angie,' he argued. 'It's been years. I'm over it.'

She was about to say, _no, your not, _but she held her tongue and instead moved the bowl of chocolate to the side and edged towards him. Slowly, gently, she kissed him, tasting the sweetness of the berry that lingered on his lips.

He kissed her back, his hands holding her neck as his tongue explored her mouth. 'Angela,' he breathed as he pulled away. 'I don't want this night to be sad. I want it to be happy, and perfect, and the best wedding night you've ever had.'

'Well, you've already made it that, Jack.' She gave him a small smile and stood up, pulling him with her. She walked across to the stereo and pressed play on the CD that was in the drive. A slow melody played and the smooth sounds of easy jazz began falling from the speakers. She took his hands and placed them around her waist, slipping her own around his neck, and together they started to dance.

A small smile spread across his lips and he closed the gap between them, brushing his lips softly against hers.

'I love you, Ange.'

'I love you, too, Jack.'

* * *

**Okay, clearly this is very mushy, just because... well, this episode was just gorgeous, but that was the point, and I wasn't going to ruin it. :D**


	20. The Body In The Bag

**Okay, I will admit, I've skipped a whole lot to get to this episode too. Please bear with me. Everything will work out in the end. However, the end shall probably not be until Bones stops... which will make me sad. But whatever. Please enjoy this chapter, because I wish you to. :D**

**

* * *

Chapter 53: The Body In The Bag**

Angela walked the length of her office. She could feel the weight of the baby inside her, and even though she was only just showing, it felt like she had never been without him. She knew it was a him. She and Hodgins had made themselves an ultrasound machine, and - although she had to admit, not certifiably - they had concluded that the baby was a boy.

And anyway, she'd had that feeling. Hodgins had asked her about it once, how she just knew things. She'd called it a "mother's instinct" but they were in the presence of Bren at the time, and it didn't go down well on the whole. But Angela knew that was what it was. That's all it could be. She had known, from the moment that she'd taken the pregnancy test and it came back positive - for sure this time - that the baby was a boy. He was always a "he" in her mind.

'Hey, Ange,' Brennan said, stepping into her office. 'I can see that your pacing, and you told me once before that pacing is not a good sign in a best friend.'

'That's correct.' Ange oftened talked like this with Brennan, mimicking her unique way of making facts the only focus of the conversation. 'It's not.' Brennan sat down gingerly on the edge of the couch, and Angela collapsed beside her.

'What's the problem then?'

'Nothing's the problem, I just- I can feel him moving inside of me, and... I don't know. I think I'm trying to soothe him.'

'Anthropologically, as a mother, you have an inbuilt system which tells you what to do when you are carrying an unborn feotus. Without experience, I would assume that this is one of those things.'

Angela sighed. 'Yeah. Probably. But no one else around here really gets it. People keep asking me why I'm always moving, or why I just want to sit down sometimes, or why sometimes I feel like I could eat a truck. They know the facts, but they don't really associate.'

'I associate. I have never asked you why you are required to buy two lunches at the cafeteria. I know you are feeding two people.'

'Thanks, Bren. That's... really comforting I guess.' She pressed out a smile, and she let Brennan put her arm around her and give her a hug.

'Have you thought of any names yet?'

'No. Not yet.'

* * *

'_Hodgins?' Angela asks as she enters the room. A food container is in one hand, a paper bag in the other, but her situation is not the interesting one. Jack is on his back beneath the sink, working on the drainage network he has exposed._

'_Yeah?' he replies with a grunt. He looks around to see her. 'Oh, hey.'_

'_Honey, you've been at this for hours.'_

'_I know,' he says. 'I snaked a vent and created an artificial back flow and flushed some of the remains into the sink line, but I'm gonna get every last bit.' He climbs awkwardly out from under the sink. Angela can't help but notice the tight muscles of his arms, visible amid the white tank shirt he is adorning. She can see the tattoo of her face, so clear on his arm, and she's almost glad that he didn't get it lasered off when she asked. _

'_I bought you something to eat.'_

'_Ooh.' He jumps up faster in interest. _

'_Well, the baby got hungry, so I ate some of it.'_

_He opens the food container, to find only the crusts of a sandwich bedded in the yellow paper._

'_Most of it,' Angela tells him._

'_Hey, let's me... you know... get back to work quicker.'_

'_I gotta say,' she says. 'This place is amazing. I could totally live here.' She walks around the bathroom, admiring the colours on the walls and the design of the architecture. 'It's a nice neighbourhood too, you know. It's not all locked up behind gates and hedges.'_

_A look of hurt crosses Jack's face. 'You don't like our place?'_

'_Well, it's your place. And before that it was your father's place. And... before that it was your grandfather's place.'_

'_Before that, my great-grandfather's,' he joins in. _

'_Seriously?'_

'_Mhm. Chester Putnum Hodgins. Never met a chandelier he didn't like.' He eyes her reaction, taking a sip from his water bottle._

'_Don't get me wrong, it's nice. It's just... I don't know? Can't you see our kid in a neighbourhood like this one? Riding his bike in the street with the other kids? And playing kickball?'_

'_I mean, it's nice,' Jack replies, still clearly not in the best of spirits. Her arms are crossed and she has the distinct feeling that this could be a fight if she lets it. 'Except for the murder.'_

'_I just think we need an _our _place.' He gives her a look. 'You know, a place where we can make our own memories.'_

_He looks at her again, still thinking, but he doesn't continue the subject. Instead, he turns back to the hole he's made in the wall. 'Um, can you do me a favour and grab me some of those forceps out of my field bag?'_

'_Yeah.' She gets down on the floor, onto her knees, careful not to jostle the baby. _

'_Well, bring on the bone fragments,' he says to her as she hands him the forceps. 'Thank you.' With one hand he holds the pipe while with the other he uses the forceps to grab at the hair lodged within. 'Come to papa.'_

_The hair comes out in the shape of the pipe, using blood, flesh and water. Angela could swear the baby was convulsing with her. 'Eugh. Yuck.'_

'_Aha,' Jack says, pulling a piece of something from the mess of hair._

'_It looks like paper.' _

'_Well, it was with the hair and bone fragments, so... it must have been in the shower when Paisley got murdered.'_

'_Why would she have a piece of paper with her in the shower?'_

'_It's got writing. Chinese. Do you think you can reconstruct this?'_

'_Sure. If I can eat that pudding I bought you.'_

_Jack raises his eyebrow._

'_It's not for me,' she says with a small laugh. 'The baby loves pudding.'

* * *

_

Jack had thought about the house a lot. He liked his house, but he knew he'd never called it home, not to anyone. When he was a kid, it was a prison to escape from, and until Angela was there, it still was. But with her? With her, any place could be home to him.

When he was old enough to understand that he was the only heir to a massively large fortune, he knew the house would be his, and he had thought that, if he ever had kids, it would be where he would raise them.

But did he ever like it there? It was the image of a life he wanted to avoid, a life that he didn't want to call his if he could help it whatsoever.

He knew having money made life easier. He could afford a good education, buy what he needed. He could provide for Angela and their son. But that didn't mean that it was a good thing. It meant he was respected, sure, but nobody who knew him by his money first treated him like a normal human. He was above everyone else, and even though he wished people wouldn't care about wealth, he knew they did.

'Jack, honey,' Angela said, slipping into the living room. She sat down next to him on the lounge and pulled her knees up to her belly, leaning into him. He wrapped his arm around her shoulder. 'What are you thinking about?'

'Nothing,' he replied. 'What are you thinking about?'

'Nothing. See how infuriating it is?'

She gave him a smile, warm and kind, the sort of smile that he loved to see on her, every day.

'Well, I'm not thinking of anything,' he said, slyly. 'But I know that you are.'

'Okay, then,' she said, running her hand along his thigh. 'I was thinking of you.'

Jack placed his own hand on her stomach, rubbing it gently. 'Well, I'll admit, I was thinking of both of you.'

'Both of us? In a good way, or a paranoid way?'

'I was thinking... I was thinking that you are the best thing in my life, and this kid will only make everything better.' He kissed the top of her head gently. 'Sometimes, I still can't believe I have you, and you're here with me, and I think that if someone else comes along you'll be gone again. And I remember you saying "you're the one who's not stopping me" and even though I'm sure I'd never let you go again, I still can't help thinking that I might. Is that a bad thing?'

'I don't know. Sometimes _I _think that even though I love you, something will pull us apart, and I'm not that great at fixing things.'

'Maybe this kid will change that.'

'Yeah, maybe. Maybe he'll hold us together, even when the going gets rough. I love him as much as I love you.'

'I thought you were going to say "almost" for a second there.'

Angela let her jaw drop in mock surprise. 'If I was saying "almost", it would be that I love _you_ almost as much as I love him. He's part of me. I can't put you before him. Sorry.'

She shot Jack a smile before leaning her head against his chest, reveling in the comfort he gave her. Sometimes she wondered why she'd ever walked out on him, no matter how good her intentions were.

'I painted something for you,' she whispered, and from her pocket she pulled a small scrap of paper. It looked like she'd pulled it from the printer, but it was thick with dried paint, and Jack could see how much effort she had put into it. It was a portrait of them. Him and her, with a baby. The baby's features were undefined, but the look in his eyes that she'd managed to capture most certainly were not. And she looked so beautiful. He wanted to hold the picture to him, keep it in his wallet, never let it go.

* * *

The sun beat down on the pavement as Jack walked purposefully along it. He'd managed to evade Angela, by the ruse of shopping for dinner, but his mind was spinning.

_Was this the right thing? _Of course it was. She'd asked for it, a place of their own, and he needed to give it to her. These were the things that money came in handy for.

He was passing houses - there was only a general store and a cafe on the corner in sight - but he wasn't at the right one yet. He needed the right house, the perfect house, the one that all this was for; the checkbook in his pocket, the worry in his heart that his payments might not be enough, the constant veil on her face that he knew he had to lift.

'Paisley!' he called out. The girl was walking swiftly along the street, bag in hand. She turned at the sound of her name.

'Yes?' she said, as he jogged to catch up to her. 'Who are you? What do you want?'

'My name is Jack Hodgins, and my wife and I are interested in buying your house.'

* * *

_The ultrasound wand slides over Angela's smooth skin under Jack's touch. His arm is around her, holding her close, and on the screen in front of them they watch the continuing movement of their unborn child._

'_Look at our little heartbeat,' Angela says softly. _

'_He's cute, isn't he.'_

'_He's adorable.'_

_With a laugh Jack exclaims, 'He's really floating around in there.' Ange smiles along too. They love this, these moments with the screen and their baby, where they can just sit and watch._

_Jack glances around the room absently, and that's when he sees that they're not along. Dr Brennan's assistant is in the room with them, and he's also watching the ultrasound images._

'_Clark?' Jack asks. He stands up quickly, nervous. 'Uh, what are you doing here?'_

'_Uh, I'm sorry. I really didn't mean to spy on you two, I just... Ah, that is just so amazing.' To the unknowing onlooker, this seems normal, but this isn't normal behaviour for Clark Eddison. This is just wrong. 'You guys!' he says, pulling them together into a hug. This is definitely not normal for him either. _

'_Thanks,' Angela says. 'Wow, that's really sweet.'_

'_Yeah,' comments Jack. 'And weird. What is going on? It's like you've eaten the real Clark.'_

'_Change is growth, man. I just wanted to come buy and tell you guys you did a great job on the case.'_

'_Thank you,' Angela says, but Jack's face is only a mix of confusion, and perhaps the slightest bit of concern._

'_Bye,' Clark says to them. And then another goodbye to Angela's stomach. _

_Angela laughs. 'Goodnight, Clark.' Hodgins says nothing._

_Clark leaves, a smile still bright on his face, and Jack turns with concern to Angela._

'_He's totally weird, right? And he was with the NSA so he could be completely messing with us.'_

'_Or, he's just turning into a normal guy,' says Angela, the voice of reason. 'Don't get all paranoid on us.' She laughs and his mouth curls into a smile along with hers, almost embarrassed. He wants to impress her, every second of every day. 'One last look?' she asks, motioning to the makeshift ultrasound._

'_Heck yeah.'_

_She sits down gingerly on the couch, as he turns on the equipment and comes to sit behind her. She places the wand on her stomach and they watch the screen. _

'_Nope,' Jack says absently. 'He doesn't look like a chandelier kind of kid, does he?'_

'_I don't think I could fit one in there anyway,' Ange laughs. _

_With a smile, Jack reaches over and shuts off the ultrasound, taking the wand away from Angela's hand. She looks at him, face masked in confusion. _

'_I think he'll like this better, anyway.' As she watches, he hands her a small jewelry case, just big enough to fit comfortably in her palm._

'_Hodgins?' she asks in surprise. 'What is this?'_

'_Open it,' he tells her._

_She takes the box and carefully opens the lid. Inside it... is a key._

_Jack watches as the shock crosses Angela's face and she raises a hand to cover her mouth. _

'_So,' he says. 'I ran into Paisley after... um... completely trashing her plumbing. Unlike us, dead people freak her out. So I made her an offer, and I got the place first deal.' _

_Angela can't even speak. She doesn't know what to say, so instead she let's Jack keep talking, trying to explain to her this... this... thing she can't comprehend._

'_You still like it, right? I'm gonna replace the shower, I promise.'_

'_Hodgins,' she says again, shaking her head this time as she tries to clear her head. 'This is the craziest, sweetest thing that anybody has ever done for me. Thank you.' She smiles watching his face as he radiates in her happiness. 'I love you.'_

_With a smile he raises his eyebrows once, in question, and let's her press her lips against his, kissing him for all she's worth.

* * *

_

The house was cold and quiet as Jack pulled Angela inside. He flicked on the light, bathing the shadows in a quiet glow. Warmth suddenly filled into the room, and as he pulled her to his side and led her through the rooms, she collapsed against him, and he was content.

'Sometimes, do you ever wish that if everything just went right, that you could have every day as blissful as the good times?'

She smiled at him, running a hand along her swollen stomach. 'Always.' She stepped away from him to admire a lampshade, and turned back to him, her smile suddenly sad. 'The problem is, not everything ever goes right.'

'I know.'

She looked up to the ceiling, biting her lip. 'What are your good days?'

He smiled, a secret smile that told of more than he was saying. 'The first date we ever had; when they pulled me from the dirt and all I could see was you, all I could feel was the taste of you on my lips, and I'd thought I would never see you again; when you agreed to marry me, finally; our first wedding day, even though it didn't end so great; our second wedding; the moment you told me you were pregnant.'

'So basically, every time you were with me?'

He smiled, stepping towards her and wrapping his arms carefully around her waist. 'Yeah. And even the times when I could feel my heart breaking. It didn't matter. It was with you. Still, it could have gone better.'

She laughed along with him, but something was plaguing her mind. 'Maybe, we need the dark times to be able to feel the joy of the good times.'

'My gorgeous philosopher.' He kissed her gently on the lips, barely making contact, just enough to taste her.

'My dad once told me that everything in life has a purpose,' Angela said, resting her forehead against Jack's. 'Things may not go the way you want or expect them too, but everything will turn out right in the end.'

'I see where you get your mystical wisdom.'

She smiled. 'I get it from many places.' She let him kiss her again, applying more pressure this time, and she slid her arms around his neck. 'Sometimes, you are one of those places.'

'Really?'

'Really, though I usually edit it a bit before passing it on to anyone else. Remove the inappropriate comments and such.' She gave him a grin, and he tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear.

'You know you love it, baby.'

'So...' she said, pulling away from him and taking his hand. 'Do we have to go back to your place, or can we just spend the night here.'

'I'm sure we can spend the night here. It's the weekend tomorrow. No need for fresh clothes.' He gave her a lopsided smile and pulled her hand to lead her towards the bedroom.

* * *

**Okay, I just realised most of my extra little scenes end with the possibility of a bit of "fun". I don't know why... I feel as if I need to change things up, but I don't really know how else to end it? I'm welcome for suggestions! **

**I really hope you enjoyed this chapter, and it wasn't too dull. I thought it was so adorable, but the amount of times I rewrote this final scene was not funny. Originally, they didn't even go to Paisley's old apartment. Then they started off in the car, but the transition just didn't work, so I started again, and this is what I came up with, and I still feel like it could be better, but I can't think of anything else! Now that I'm ignoring any kind of order for these chapters, I'm opening it up that anyone can request their favourite episode to be written. As long as it has something substantial that happens between Angela and Hodgins, mainly because that's my subject material :D I've tried to make a list to work off, but I always feel like I'm missing something! Feel free to request!**

**Love you all!**

**xx Wynnie**


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